If Only
by theycallherdarling
Summary: After Daryl saves her life and Carol nurses her back to health, Cheryl Briggs knows she owes them both. But in a world overrun by walkers, she doesn't have much to give. She decides the best solution would be to give them to each other. DarylxCarol
1. Chapter 1

A/N: My mother got me addicted to this show and my love for Daryl and Carol has done nothing but grow since day one. I've seen so many lovely Caryl fics on here, so I'm gonna take a crack at it! I'm not sure how long this piece will end up being; I was running on the treadmill one day and had a vision of two lovely girls who wanted to help bring these crazy kids together. I'm just along for the ride.

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of its characters. While there are a few OCs thrown into the mix, here's a good rule of thumb: if you recognize the name, the character probably doesn't belong to me._

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<br>**

The sun was just beginning to rise over the hills and fields, but Daryl had been wandering the forest for hours. It was a part of his routine these days: a few hours of restless sleep followed by an early-morning hunt. Then he would isolate himself from the rest of the group and find some monotonous task to keep himself busy for the rest of the day, like cleaning his crossbow or fashioning arrows from the sticks he had collected during his hunt.

It wasn't as if he didn't try to sleep; it was just that every time he closed his eyes, all he could see was Dale, face white, eyes wide, bloody and terrified.

"_Sorry, brother."_

Gun shot. Silence.

Daryl dug the butt of his palms into his eyes and shook his head, willing the image out of his mind.

"_You act like you don't care."_

"_Yeah, cause I don't."_

Daryl almost let out a bitter laugh at the irony of it all. He used to not care. He tried not to care. Hell, he remembered when he and Merle first found the group and they didn't give two shits about anyone but each other. But then he lost Merle and Sophia went missing and suddenly Daryl Dixon had a _purpose_. He wasn't just some crazy hillbilly; he could hunt, he could track, he could protect the group, he could take an arrow and a bullet and come back swinging. And the way Carol looked at him-

Carol.

A crow cawed overhead and snapped Daryl out of his thoughts. He had been standing in front of the same tree for 10 minutes, letting his mind wander while the squirrel he had just pinned with an arrow hung limp. For the second time, Daryl shook his head.

"_S'the matter, Darlena? You gone soft?"_ Daryl growled and stalked towards the tree, ripping the arrow out of the bark with more force than was necessary. "I ain't gone soft," he growled under his breath, trying to silence the cruel echo of Merle's voice in the back of his head.

"_Then what do you care about some dumb bitch anyhow?" _Merle taunted. _"She ain't looking at you nothin. She don't give a rat's ass. No one does. Well, 'cept for me." _Grabbing the dead squirrel off the forest floor, Daryl couldn't bring himself to deny that fact. It would be stupid of him to think that the group thought any more of him than what he really was: muscle. Force. Someone who could rough a kid up and not feel a damn thing about it. A cold-hearted killer, isn't that what he was? He wasn't _caring_ like Rick. He wasn't _thoughtful_ like Dale or Glenn. Hell, he wasn't even a tough skin with a good heart like everyone thought Shane was.

But then a new voice broke through his thoughts: soft, warm, inviting:

"_You're every bit as good as them. Every bit."_

There was Carol again, always seeming to pop up when his mind wandered. She thought he was good. She trusted him for some reason that he couldn't quite figure out for himself, and she looked at him with those sad, blue eyes and he felt like he actually _meant_ something. That day in the quarry, when he saw her pull all the strength she had into destroying the remains of her bastard husband, she had looked at him with tears in her eyes and dammit, she had gotten under his skin somehow.

Once again, Merle's cruel voice shattered Daryl's image of Carol. _"Little brother, you don't think that old cow actually _cares_ about you, do you? Jesus, isn't that rich!" _Merle's laughter was short and cold and the hunter felt his blood boil as the voice ripped into him. _"You're a replacement, Darlena. She's got no husband, no daughter, and she just don't know what to do with herself. You went soft like the little bitch you are and she got bored. She couldn't care about you if she tried."_

Merle was right. Merle was always right. Carol was good and Daryl was shit, black and white, clear as fucking day. She latched on to him because he was the only one who cared to go looking for Sophia, and now that Sophia was gone, there was no reason for her to stick around. Daryl let out a colorful stream of curses as he reeled back and threw the squirrel carcass as far as he could, as if it held all the stupid feelings he had let himself develop for the woman.

After all, where had feelings ever gotten him?

It took him only a few seconds to regret what he did, whether it was because of the small ache in his shoulder from the abrupt movement or the fact that he had thrown away a perfectly good squirrel or both. At least the voices were gone, as if they had been satisfied with his furry offering. The sound of a cracking twig made him whip around, crossbow at the ready, and he cursed again when he realized that he had allowed himself to be a sitting duck during the whole of his internal struggle.

There was movement in the bushes beside Daryl. He had his finger on the trigger and was ready to shoot when Rick stepped onto the path, hands raised to his shoulders.

Daryl grunted and dropped his weapon. "The hell are you thinking, sneakin' around like that?" he growled. "You tryin to get yourself shot?"

Rick lowered his arms slowly. "Sorry, I should've called out. Didn't mean to startle you."

Daryl scoffed. "Couldn't 'startle' me if ya tried. Now mind tellin me what you're doin out here?"

Rick looked down at the ground and sighed before looking back at him. "Couldn't sleep. Saw you sneakin out here early, so I thought…" he wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. "Thought I'd come thank you. For Dale. You know. Doin what I couldn't."

Daryl couldn't quite meet Rick's gaze as he thought about that night once again: Rick held the gun in his hand as he stared down at Dale and Daryl saw him freeze. He knew in an instant what he had to do. Taking the gun from Rick, Daryl looked down at Dale's pale face. He thought of how Rick had stepped forward towards Sophia that day she came stumbling out of the barn. Daryl could have used the excuse of holding Carol back as why he didn't end her suffering himself, but he would never admit that there was a moment he realized that he couldn't bring himself to do it. There was a moment where he held on to Carol because he needed her just as much as she needed him. He couldn't bring himself to raise his gun to Carol's little girl, the one he had almost killed himself trying to save. He had failed and he couldn't handle it.

That's why he took the gun from Rick that night. That's why he ended Dale's life for Rick, because Rick had ended Sophia's for him. Daryl just didn't expect pulling that trigger to hurt so damn much. It seemed like everything was starting to hurt much more and he was still trying to get used to the fact that he could feel things at all.

What happened to the cold-hearted killer?

Daryl could have said all those things to Rick. He could have told him the whole story, told him how he felt, and thanked him for killing Sophia, but he didn't. That's not how Daryl Dixon operated, and he he'd be damned if it ever was. So he simply shrugged his shoulders and said, "No reason you should have to do all the heavy lifting."

Rick seemed satisfied with his response and he nodded his head as he lifted his hands to his hips. Daryl was trying to figure out how they would proceed from the awkward silence when he heard it: the ear-splitting sound of crashing metal and crunching glass. It was like an explosion in comparison to how silent the forest had been, and Daryl and Rick both whipped around toward the direction of the noise. Another crashing sound followed the first a few seconds later, then a third, then a fourth before silence finally settled once again.

Rick and Daryl made eye contact for only a second before the former turned and went running towards the noise. Daryl didn't know if Rick expected him to follow or not, but he knew that it was stupid to let him go off by himself. Especially because it was only a matter of time before every walker in the area gathered at the site of the noise, like moths drawn towards a flame. The hunter let out another colorful stream of curses for Rick, himself, and whatever the hell had caused that noise as he held his crossbow ready at his chest and raced after Rick.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: The first two chapters are mostly going to serve as exposition, but I promise there will be some heavier dialogue and Caryl interaction next chapter!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

The strip of highway appeared before Daryl much faster than he had expected and he briefly mused over how deeply the sheriff's deputy must have followed him before their meeting. He had only had to chase Rick down for a few minutes before the trees cleared and he saw the road stretched out before them.

They must have been a few miles down from where their group had encountered the pile-up and the herd of walkers. The highway was still littered with cars, but they were spaced out evenly enough that a compact vehicle may have been able to weave between them if the driver was careful. From the looks of it, someone hadn't been so careful: a small, blue Mazda lay overturned in the road, smoking and sputtering. As Daryl saw Rick race towards the car, he inspected the scene and realized that the Mazda must have hit one of the parked cars at a high speed and rolled.

He took off towards the car more cautiously than Rick had, making sure to keep his eyes peeled for approaching walkers. Daryl heard the familiar, guttural moaning sound at the same time that Rick called his name from the overturned hood of the car. Not quite sure what he'd find, Daryl quickened his pace and stopped next to the passenger side window.

"Watch it!" Rick called, and Daryl looked down to see the source of the noise: a walker, mangled from the crash, was trying to crawl out of the window. It looked like the glass had shattered on impact and the undead corpse of a young man was slicing its stomach to ribbons as it used its arms to slowly pull itself out of the car. When the walker saw Daryl, it moved more quickly, a loud, crackling groan escaping from behind its bared teeth as it snatched at his ankle.

It wasn't a difficult kill; Daryl simply lifted his heel and brought it down as hard as he could on the walker's skull, repeatedly, until only a smear remained on the pavement. With only a glance at the rest of the body, Daryl could clearly see a bloodied bandage on the once-man's forearm. He crouched down and carefully plucked it back to see that a chunk of flesh was missing.

"Rick," he called to the driver's side of the Mazda where the other man had successfully pried the door open. "This one turned geek before the car crashed."

Daryl straightened up to see Rick dragging a body, whether unconscious or dead, Daryl couldn't tell, out of the driver's seat. Rick had been about to place the young woman on the ground, but he kept his grip under her armpits at Daryl's words.

"What are you sayin?"

"I'm sayin check for bites before you play hero."

Rick opened his mouth to respond when the two men heard a cry from the backseat of the car. Rick's eyes widened and he dropped the woman abruptly to race towards the car again, allowing her to hit the ground with a resounding _crack_.

Daryl ran to the woman on the ground as he called, "Jesus Christ, Rick! What's the point of pulling her out of the damn car if you're just gonna kill her?"

But he could tell that Rick, a father, wasn't listening to him; they had heard the sound of a small child crying from the backseat and Daryl knew it was Rick's priority to save him or her. Daryl felt a small twinge of anger that Rick had been the one to dive back into the car to save the child out of the two of them. Sophia crossed his mind and the guilt stung his gut. Daryl Dixon just didn't have a knack for saving children, did he?

Then again, Rick had been the one to leave Sophia alone in the first place. Maybe this was his attempt to make up for it, by saving this new child on the same highway where he had lost the first one.

The feelings, suspicions, and memories flashed through Daryl's mind all in an instant before he turned and knelt down to the young woman who had been abandoned on the pavement.

She was small, skinny, and maybe a bit younger than Glenn. Her dusty clothes hinted that she had been on the road for a few days, away from a house or campsite, and there was a bit of sunburn forming on her face. There was a decent sized cut at her hairline and her light brown hair was matted with blood. Her hair was only to her shoulders, but it was choppy and uneven. Daryl, who was all too familiar with cutting hair with a buck knife, realized she must have done it herself.

He gave her a once-over and, after determining that she had been neither scratched nor bitten, he returned his crossbow to its sling. When it was settled across his back, he held two fingers to the woman's neck, right under her jawline.

There was a pulse. He could barely feel it, but it was there.

"Is she breathing?"

Rick had returned from the car, a sleeping toddler gently cradled in his arms.

"No thanks to you," Daryl grumbled before moving his arms under the woman and lifting her off the highway. He would have just thrown her over his shoulder if it hadn't been for her head injury; conscious or not, he felt uncomfortable with the intimacy of holding a woman he didn't know to his chest, much in the same way Rick was holding the little girl close to his own chest.

At the thought, he glanced over to the sleeping child in Rick's arms. She couldn't have been older than four. Her face was very similar to the driver's, but her hair was a soft, curly blond.

Rick looked down at the toddler himself. "She was crying and flailing around, so that made it pretty difficult to get her out of the car seat. If I hadn't gotten it in another few seconds, I would have had to ask for your knife to cut the straps."

"She got any bites?"

Rick shook his head. "No scratches, either. When I finally got her out, she either passed out or fell asleep. Not sure which. Either way, we better get them back to the farm," he glanced between the two girls. "They look alike. Sisters, you reckon?"

"Does it matter?" Daryl snapped back, and Rick grew quiet. "We gotta get these two back and, unless you're keen on carrying them the whole way, that means we need to find a ride."

Rick looked past Daryl's shoulder, further down the highway, and snapped to attention, instinctively tightening his grip on the toddler. "Yeah," he said, "and quick."

Daryl didn't need to turn around to know that danger was approaching, but he did anyway. A small herd of walkers was about a quarter mile down the road, finally coming upon the source of the explosive noise they had been drawn to.

Looking back to Rick and then to the cars stopped on the road, Daryl tightened his hold on the woman. "Start searchin."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: I can't thank you guys enough for your kind words! The amount of reviews/subscriptions this fic got in such a short amount of time inspired me and I spent a good portion of the day writing. This chapter ended up a _lot_ longer than I expected it to, but we'll chalk it up to Carol being a little more loquacious than our loveable redneck. Enjoy, and remember that reviews are always appreciated!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Carol didn't know what she was expecting to find. She knew it wouldn't be Daryl; he had been leaving the farm early in the days since Dale's death and she never seemed to get up early enough to catch him. Maybe that was _why_ she made the morning trips out to his tent in the corner of the farm, away from the RV. Maybe she was hoping that one day he'd surprise her by being there, sitting in front of the fire pit, with no intention of leaving.

She knew she couldn't force him to stay if he really didn't want to, but the thought of losing him made her insides knot up and her throat go dry. He had been so angry when she told him she wasn't going to let him pull away and it reminded her of a scared animal. Daryl had come around eventually, of course, and at least he would look her in the eye again, but he barely spoke to her anymore and he showed no intention of moving his tent any closer to the RV.

Still, Carol had to admit that every twitch of his lip gave her a little more hope that he would stick around. So she made her usual rounds about the campsite, completing the all but choreographed path: gaze at the fire pit, walk past the tent while letting her fingers skim the nylon, count the squirrels hanging from the tree branch (there were seven today), and make a face at the necklace of ears he refused to get rid of.

It was silly, she admitted, and maybe a little childish, but she didn't see the harm of lurking while he was away. After all, she never actually went through his things, entered his tent, or moved his possessions around. She never left anything or took anything with her. Daryl would never have to know that she was there.

But in the back of her mind, Carol almost hoped he did. She pictured Daryl returning, hours later, and sensing her presence all around him. He would know that she had been there, and that there had to be a _reason_ she made this trip every morning, and maybe that would be enough to make him stay.

Maybe that would be enough to let him know that she cared.

Done with her routine, Carol turned to walk back towards the house where breakfast was waiting to be made. As she walked, she couldn't help but think about how irritating the whole situation was. If Carol had to describe herself in one word, "direct" would not be it. Sure, everyone had a breaking point, but for the most part, she was perfectly content with keeping her feelings to herself for the sake of everyone else. But she had put herself out there for him not once, but twice. She told him she couldn't lose him and he threw a saddle across the barn. She pleaded for him not to pull away and he had a screaming fit.

If Daryl didn't realize her feelings for him now, Carol doubted that he ever would. Or maybe he would always be like some wild animal, easily spooked and willing to gnaw off his own leg if meant he could escape an emotional situation unscathed.

Carol was about halfway to the house when she heard someone call her name. Looking around, she saw Lori running towards her from the direction of the RV.

"Have you seen Rick?" Lori called when she got closer. She was in a panic.

"No," Carol replied. "He's not in the house?"

"No," Lori whispered. "He's not in the house or the RV or the tent or the field, or anywhere. I've been looking all morning."

Lori looked like she was on the verge of tears. Carol knew that Rick's absence was probably nothing to worry about, but Lori was dealing with pregnancy hormones along with Dale's death and Randall's presence in the barn. It was enough to put anyone out of sorts.

"I'm sure it's nothing," Carol said, resting a supportive hand on Lori's shoulder. "Daryl's gone too, so maybe they're together."

If Lori was curious as to how Carol knew Daryl was gone as well, she didn't mention it. She absentmindedly placed a hand on her stomach and turned towards the field. "Yeah," she said slowly. "Maybe."

Carol was about to invite Lori to come into the house and help her with breakfast when they heard a car speeding down the dirt road towards the house. Feeling Lori stiffen beside her, Carol turned towards the RV and the other cars. All of them were accounted for. Her stomach tightened.

The two women stood there, unsure of what to do. Carol looked across the yard and saw Andrea climbing to the roof of the RV. When she reached the top, she turned towards the house and held her arms up, as if asking if they knew what was happening. When Carol responded with a similar gesture to imply that she didn't know, Andrea picked up her shotgun and held it at the ready.

"Carl inside?" Carol asked.

"Yes," Lori responded shakily. "He's upstairs."

"Good."

Carol didn't protest when Lori grabbed her wrist and started pulling her towards the house. When they had reached the porch, Lori called inside for Hershel, who appeared a moment later with Glenn and Maggie trailing sleepily behind him.

"What's going on?" Hershel asked, looking between the two women.

"There's a car none of us recognize and it's headed towards the farm," Carol said quickly, keeping her eyes on the approaching vehicle.

"Randall's men?" Glenn asked with wide eyes.

"That's not possible, no one could have told them where we are," Hershel said, but he didn't seem entirely convinced himself. He looked to Lori. "Where's Rick?"

"He's gone, I haven't seen him all morning," Lori cried.

"We need to find Shane, then," Hershel said darkly. "I think he and T-Dog are out in the field. And we'll need Daryl, too."

"Daryl's not here either," Carol said quietly.

"Wait, you guys," Glenn said, stepping away from Maggie and squinting towards the car, "I think…_that's Rick._ Yeah, it's him! And Daryl's driving!"

Carol looked to the car that had now passed by the RV. Sure enough, Daryl was behind the wheel and Rick sat in the passenger seat, looking down at his lap. Andrea was waving to them from on top of the RV, and when she saw the group look towards her, she gave them a thumbs-up.

For a moment it looked like the car was going to crash into the house, but Daryl slowed just in time to come to a stop a couple hundred feet from the porch. Lori raced down the steps to meet her husband, but froze in her tracks when he got out the car.

"Is that a- who's- Rick, where did you-"

Carol could hear Lori stuttering, but she was barely paying attention as she sped down the steps towards the driver's side of the car. Daryl had just slammed the door when she reached him.

"Daryl, what-"

"Not now," he growled and turned around to open the door to the back seat. Carol's hand flew to her mouth when she saw a young girl lying across the seat, her hair matted with blood.

"Hershel, we need some help here!" Rick called, and Carol turned to look at him. He was holding a sleeping toddler in his arms and Lori was standing there, eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

Time seemed to speed up abruptly as Carol heard Rick saying something about a car accident and a herd of walkers. Daryl brushed past her with the woman in his arms and passed her off to Glenn and Maggie who carried her into the house under Hershel's orders. Everyone ran back into the house in a frenzied mess, and Carol just stood there with a weight on her chest that made it difficult to breathe.

"Hey."

She jumped and saw that Daryl was next to her, apparently choosing to remain outside after he had handed the stranger over to the others.

"Sorry," Daryl mumbled when he saw how visibly shaken she was. "You ok?"

Carol let out a short, incredulous laugh. "Am _I _okay? _You_ just showed up in a new car with a bleeding teenager a toddler, and you ask _me_ if _I'm_ okay?" She took a step closer to him. "Are _you_ okay? What happened?"

He didn't step back, and Carol took that as a good sign. "I'm fine," he said, shrugging slightly. "Wasn't nothing me and Rick couldn't handle."

"But I heard something about a car accident and a herd of walkers-"

"I said it was nothing," he said sharply as he made to walk past Carol to his corner of the yard.

Desperate to keep him near her, Carol held her hand up without thinking and placed it on his chest. Though her touch was light, it was as effective as a brick wall. His entire body tensed up, but she didn't falter until she felt him relax under her fingers.

His hand twitched slightly and then rose about halfway. For a moment Carol thought he would grasp her hand, and her heart started to race. She was disappointed when his arm dropped once more with a microscopic shake of his head, but he turned and locked eyes with her.

"I was out huntin this mornin. Rick caught up with me and we got to talkin when we heard this crash. Went out to the highway, saw this rolled over car with the two girls inside. There was a walker in the car with 'em, but we took care of it easy enough…"

He licked his lips before continuing. "Well we got the girls out fine, but this herd must'a heard the crash and they came runnin. We couldn't risk tryin'a bring 'em back on foot, it was too far and we'd be easy prey for any walkers in the woods. Plus the one was bleedin' pretty bad and we knew we'd need to hurry. So Rick startin lookin for cars that would start and I was tryin to get my crossbow out, but I couldn't really get it while I was holdin the girl. By the time we found somethin that would start, they were on us and I had to throw the girl in the back and thin down the herd with Rick's gun to give him enough time to start the car."

Daryl chuckled darkly. "But that son of a bitch wouldn't let go of that damn toddler and was goin on about car seats when we had walkers right on top of us. I had to shove him over to the bitch seat. Slammed the door on a geek's head and we ran about a dozen of 'em over, but we managed to turn around and get back through the cars 'till we got to where we cleared the way for the RV." He shrugged. "Like I said: nothin we couldn't handle."

Carol let out a shaky breath. The idea of just barely escaping a herd of walkers didn't sound like "nothing" to her, no matter how casually Daryl tried to relay the story. Her mind immediately jumped to all of the worst case scenarios: _'what if they hadn't made it?' _was the obvious one, followed closely by _'what if Rick had left Daryl behind?' _and _'what if Daryl had been infected and had to be put down?'_

She jumped slightly when she felt a calloused hand grasp her own, pulling her back to reality. Daryl had finally brought his hand up to meet hers and she realized her grip had been tightening throughout his story until she held a fist full of flannel. She loosened her grip and felt heat rise in her cheeks when his hand kept hers in place.

The corners of his lips twitched slightly upwards. "This is why I didn't tell you nothin. You worry too much."

"I was just thinking-" she whispered, but he cut her off again.

"Don't. I'm here, ain't I? I came back." He lowered his hand from his chest and hers fell along with it. "Always do."

Carol couldn't help but give him a small smile. She would have been content to stay there, basking in the closeness she felt to him at that moment, but they heard the door open and Glenn stepped onto the porch.

"Rick wants everyone inside. I'm gonna go find T-Dog and Shane, can one of you grab Andrea?"

"I'll get her," Carol said, giving Daryl's hand the smallest of squeezes before letting go and turning to walk towards the RV.

On the walk across the yard, Carol tried to get her breathing under control. It didn't help that she could feel his eyes on her the entire way over and it made her overly-aware of how her hips swished and her arms swayed with every step. When she finally reached the RV and relayed Glenn's message to Andrea, she couldn't help but look back towards the house.

They held each other's gaze across the yard for a few seconds until Daryl, seemingly content with whatever it was he was seeing, glanced downwards and then towards the house. Then it was Carol's turn to watch him walk away from her, up the steps, and through the door.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I'm still stunned at how much great feedback this story is getting. Y'all are seriously the best! And can I just say...TONIGHT IS THE NIGHT. I'm torn between being giddy for the finale and being depressed that we'll have to wait for the new season. But ever since I saw the promo picture of Daryl and Carol on the motorcycle, I've been leaning more towards giddy. We'll see what happens!

For anyone who's wondering, this story plays with the timeline between "Judge, Jury, Executioner" and "Better Angels." For the most part, I've just stretched out the time between the two episodes. And yes, the finale _may _affect how this story goes from here on in...you'll just have to wait and see ;] but enough chatter! On with the fic!

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

"So let me get this straight," Shane said loudly, his voice echoing through the small dining room. "We've been beating our heads in, tryin to figure out what to do with the kid in the barn, and you bring _more _strangers back to the farm?"

The group was gathered around the table and Rick, who was standing at the head, had just told the very short version of what had happened on the highway. Daryl could feel the tension in the air as Rick and Shane stared each other down and he found himself wishing he was back in the woods, far away from the two.

He would have left had he taken up his usual post by the door. But when Carol had returned with Andrea, his feet had starting moving without his permission and he found himself hovering near the empty seat to Carol's left.

"Sit," she had said, and her smile had seemed so genuine that he had.

Daryl was regretting his decision at this point, but it had nothing to do with the woman on his right. He didn't want to sit through another one of Rick and Shane's fights for dominance and, when he glanced quickly around the room, he could tell he wasn't the only one.

"She's harmless," Rick was telling Shane when Daryl turned back to the pair. "I saw the inside of that car and I could tell that they were living out of it. The chances of them having a pack out there looking for them are slim."

"Maybe they were checking out the area," Shane argued back. "Kept their supplies in the car in case of emergency. Or maybe they had nowhere else to put them."

"You think anyone in their right mind would send two teenagers and a _toddler_ on a scouting mission?" Rick's voice was booming now and he stepped forward as if daring Shane to approach him. "They didn't have any weapons, Shane. Who stakes out an area without a gun or at least a knife?"

Daryl felt his brow furrow. No weapons? Rick hadn't mentioned that. Then again, they hadn't had much time for chatter out on the highway. But still, the idea that _anyone_ would travel unarmed nowadays was strange, much less a couple of kids.

Shane was pacing now, and Daryl was reminded of a coyote trapped in a cage. He knew Shane was capable of more than what most of the people in the group wanted to think. Daryl hadn't really even paid Shane any mind until he came back with Otis' gun and a bullshit story. Daryl knew to be watchful of the man.

Watchful. But never afraid.

"Look," Shane said, finally stopping to glare daggers at Rick again. "We can't take any chances. We can't underestimate anyone. It's asking for trouble."

Rick sighed. "Well then what do _you_ suggest we do?"

Shane shrugged. "Keep 'em in the barn. Set 'em free like Randall."

"They're children," Carol said in almost a whisper. Daryl could hear the shock in her voice.

"Well, shit Carol, you're right! Someone bein young means they ain't a threat," Shane shouted, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "You might cry every time you pick up a gun, but that don't mean this girl will!"

Daryl was on his feet so quickly that his chair flew to the floor behind him. "You wanna say that again, asshole?" he snarled. His blood was boiling and he didn't realize he was bracing himself to lunge across the table until Carol reached up and snatched his wrist. He could feel her eyes on him, but he kept his focus on Shane.

"What I'm sayin is-"

"What you're sayin is that you're afraid'a bein jumped by a goddamn teenager. You tryin to tell me that unarmed little girl could get the jump on you? Or are you scared'a bein mauled by a toddler?" Shane had crossed the line when he yelled at Carol and Daryl smirked when the other man's face turned a deep red at his accusation.

T-Dog had to jump to his feet and hold Shane off to keep him from reaching across the table. Daryl ripped his wrist out of Carol's hand and was about to yell to T-Dog to let him go, let him come, so they could settle this once and for all, but Hershel rose to his feet.

"ENOUGH!" he roared, and the chaos stopped immediately. T-Dog slowly released his hold on Shane, who was still red in the face. Daryl grit his teeth and had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep himself from reaching across the table and putting Shane in a headlock.

When Hershel spoke again, it was quiet and serious. "The girl is going to be fine, but she has two fractured ribs and the cut on her head wasn't pretty. I wrapped her as best I could and stitched up her head, but she's lost a lot of blood and is going to be in a lot of pain when she wakes up. She needs food, water, and plenty of rest."

He turned to Shane. "This is my house. I don't know how many times I have to tell you that before you get it through your head, but here it is one more time. This girl is young, close to malnourished, and has made no attempt on my life, which is more than we can say for Randall."

"How's the little girl?" Lori asked quietly.

"I was gettin to that," Hershel said firmly and Lori bit her lip. "She has a couple bumps and bruises, but for the most part, she's fine. She looks a little better off than her sister."

"Wouldn't be surprised if her sister was letting her have all the food," Carol said distantly, and Daryl looked down at her. He remembered those mornings and nights around the camp fire when Carol would scrape half of her own portion on to Sophia's plate, insisting that she wasn't hungry and that Sophia should have the rest. The memory combined with the look in Carol's eyes made his throat tighten and he had to turn away.

Hershel nodded. "That may be the case. But neither of them looks particularly ready to travel, and I want to keep them here," his gaze moved to Shane, "in the house. Place a guard if you must, but I will not allow you to kick those girls out. Not until we have a chance to talk to them."

"We can talk to the older one when she wakes up," Andrea suggested. "Maybe she was headed somewhere in particular."

"Yeah, maybe she won't even want to stick around," Glenn added. "We won't know until we ask."

"Alright, then it's settled," Rick said officially, straightening up. "Wait till she wakes up, find out who she is and where she and her sister are headed, and then make our decision when we have all the facts."

Everyone murmured their agreement except for Shane, who shook his head and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him. The rest of the group sat in silence for a moment before slowly dispersing, some heading outside, some retreating further into the house. Daryl remained frozen when Carol stood from her seat and moved towards Hershel.

"Do you mind if I check on them?" she asked quietly. "I just want to see how they're doing."

Hershel sighed. "Patricia and Carl are sitting with the little one down the hall, second door on the right. She's awake, but I don't want her moving much. I think Patricia may have found some markers to distract her with. The other one is in the room right across the hall, but she might not be up for a while."

Carol smiled and thanked him before moving past him and down the hall. Daryl followed. It was a natural movement, his footsteps falling into synch behind hers, and it carried him slowly down the hall and into the second room on the left. By the time he had quietly closed the door behind him, she was sitting in the chair at the stranger's bedside.

Daryl took in the sight before him: the young girl looked only slightly better than when he had first seen her, the dust and blood cleaned from her face. There was a bandage wrapped loosely around her forehead and he assumed it was to cover up the stitches. She was wearing a different shirt, probably one of Maggie's that was much looser and far cleaner than the one she had been wearing before. Her arms lay at her sides and her chest was slowly rising and falling.

Carol was watching her with a strange look on her face. It was love and concern and hope and fear all rolled into one, and Daryl couldn't help but wonder how it was possible for Carol to feel all those things for someone whose name she didn't even know. Then again, Daryl wasn't exactly an expert on feelings. Maybe Rick or Glenn would understand better than he could. _"Or Dale,"_ he thought bitterly.

"You didn't have to do that."

It was so softly spoken that it took Daryl a second to realize that he hadn't just imagined it. But Carol's eyes were on him and she gave him a small smile.

Daryl shrugged. "Shane's a loudmouth," he answered quietly, assuming they were trying not to wake the girl. "Someone needed to tell him to shut it."

"Well thank you for defending my honor," she teased. "My knight in shining flannel."

Daryl was taken aback at her playful teasing, mostly because he knew anyone else in the group would have first teased an angry grizzly bear. "Well," he said slowly, "my armor's at the cleaners, so I had to make do."

She laughed softly and Daryl found his lips twitching upwards at the sound. He liked her laugh. He liked a lot of things about her, but that very thought made his heart speed up and he crossed his arms in front of his chest as if he could keep her from seeing it.

Carol gazed down at the girl again. "I wanted to peak in on the little one, but I lost my nerve."

"Lookin at toddlers takes nerve?"

She smirked. "Now it does. After everything that's happened I didn't know how I would feel." She looked down at her lap and Daryl barely heard her whisper, "Sophia was blond like that when she was little."

His heart tightened painfully in his chest and he tried to step forward, but his legs wouldn't move.

Carol looked up again and Daryl could barely see the wetness in her eyes. "It's silly," she said, smiling sadly. "I know it is. But I don't want to risk getting attached in case they end up leaving."

Daryl wracked his brain trying to think of something, _anything _that would get rid of that look on her face. Jesus, he was hopeless with words.

Fortunately he was saved by the gasp that escaped Carol. She was staring down at the girl again and Daryl realized that the stranger's eyes were slowly fluttering open.

The girl breathed deeply as her blue eyes seemed to take in her surroundings. All at once, a look of terror flashed across her face and she sat up, shrieking.

"JULIE!" The name had barely escaped her lips before she cried out in pain and brought her hands to her side. She sank back down onto the bed, but found Carol at her side.

"Who are you? Where's Julie, is she okay?" the girl cried, and when Carol, mouth hanging open in shock, didn't respond, she let out a wail.

As the stranger cried and continued to call out the names "Julie" and "Bobby," Carol managed to find her voice.

"Get Rick!" she called to Daryl, and then turned to try to soothe the hysterical teen.

Daryl, a little caught off guard by the abrupt explosion of emotion, didn't hesitate. What a day this was turning out to be.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Well here we are again, and words continue to fail me when I try to describe how much I appreciate the feedback I'm getting. I'm so glad y'all are loving this story, and hopefully it stays original and unpredictable! The finale was _fantastic_ and all the Caryl had me dying (Daryl saving Carol, them riding on the bike together, and Carol implying that they should run off together). I'm not sure how I'm going to survive without this beautiful show until October! Especially because I'm seeing a bunch of Carol/Caryl hate on Tumblr, no matter how much I try to avoid it :| I think I'm just going to have to stay here with you lovely people where everything is Caryl and nothing hurts.

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

It took no less than Carol, Rick, Lori, Hershel, and a brooding Daryl to calm the young girl. Though Rick had promised her multiple times that Julie was safe across the hall, the stranger refused to stay in bed until the frustrated man was able to describe the toddler in great detail.

"She's playing in the next room," Hershel said calmly after Rick finished describing Julie's curly blond hair and big, blue eyes. "I'm sure she'll be happy to see you, but I don't want you to scare her. You need to calm down a bit first."

The girl bit her lip and shot a furtive look around the room before finally settling into the bed. Carol saw the stranger's eyes lock on hers and she smiled softly. The young girl seemed to take it as a reassuring gesture and let out a sigh.

"What happened?" she asked. All the screaming and thrashing seemed to have worn her out and her voice was hoarse.

Rick chuckled. "I was going to ask you the same question. Tell us how you got to I-85 and we'll fill in the rest. But you could start with your name."

The girl licked her lips and glanced to Carol again.

"Lori, could you grab a glass of water, please? This is probably going to be quite a story and the poor girl looks parched," Carol said as she pat the girl softly on the hand. She could see the relief in the girl's eyes and she briefly wondered how long it had been since the girl had been fussed over. That was when the realization hit Carol: whether it was because she was the first one the girl had seen upon waking up or another reason entirely, the stranger was looking to her for comfort.

An awkward tension filled the room while Lori was getting the glass of water. Carol saw Rick gazing at the door as if willing his wife to return quickly so they could get their interview over with. Carol's gaze had just landed on Daryl, leaning against the door, brow furrowed, when Lori appeared again. She thrust the glass into the girl's outstretched hand and went to stand by her husband.

The stranger took a sip of water and sighed again before finally saying, "I'm Cheryl. Cheryl Briggs."

"Hello, Cheryl Briggs," Rick said, a serious smile on his face. "I'm Rick. This is my wife Lori, that's Carol on your right, Daryl is up by the door, and Hershel is on your left. You're on Hershel's farm with his family and my group, all of whom you'll meet later."

Carol thought the introduction was awkward and far more formal than necessary and she couldn't help but smirk when she noticed Daryl rolling his eyes from his spot on the wall.

"…hi," Cheryl said quietly, glancing around the room. When no one said anything, she spoke again. "I'm from Chamblee, up in DeKalb County. The city got overrun though, so we were traveling with a bigger group- Bobby, Julie, and I were, I mean. We included, there were about 20 people in all, mostly families, living out of cars and off of whatever we had managed to take out of the city. But we were running out of supplies and they wanted to go to Atlanta…see if we could get to the CDC, you know?"

"The CDC is gone. My group was there before we found this farm; the city was overrun by walkers," Rick interjected.

Cheryl sighed. "Yeah, Bobby figured it would be. He called them "zombies" or "the undead," but I think I like "walkers" better." She looked down at her lap where she was clutching the blanket tightly in her hands. "It doesn't sound so much like something out of a video game."

A moment of silence passed before Cheryl looked up again, her eyes wet with tears. "Was Bobby in the car when you found us?" she whispered.

Rick let out a sigh and looked towards Daryl. Carol noticed that Daryl refused to make eye contact with anyone when he asked, "Young guy? Blond, small build?"

He looked up only slightly when Cheryl nodded.

Daryl swallowed hard. "He'd been bit," he said quietly. "We had to put him down."

Carol's heart lurched when tears started streaming down Cheryl's cheeks. She instinctively reached out and put a hand on the younger girl's back, soothing her as she cried.

Rick allowed Cheryl to cry for a moment before he said, "I'm sorry for your loss. We've all lost people along the way, and I know how badly it must hurt…" He glanced around the room nervously before finally continuing. "But I've gotta say it's not safe to be in such close quarters with the infected. If Daryl and I hadn't been there, he might have gotten loose, bitten you or your sister-"

"What?" Cheryl asked, looking up with narrow eyes.

Rick continued, voice steady, "I know this isn't what you want to hear right now, but I really need you to understand-"

"No, no, not that," Cheryl said, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand, confusion still clear on her face. "You said something about my sister. I don't have a sister."

Carol felt her own eyes narrow as she looked at Rick in confusion. Rick really had no knowledge of either of these girls, but he had presented them as sisters and they had all just assumed he was right. She supposed it wasn't Rick's fault; they looked enough alike and Cheryl had seemed so worried about Julie when she woke up, Carol had just gone along with it.

Carol's hand slipped slowly from Cheryl's back and the younger girl turned to look at her. "Is Julie not your sister?" Carol asked.

A look of realization crossed Cheryl's face followed by one of hesitation. She looked down at her lap again before saying, "No, Julie's not my sister."

Carol waited for her to finish, and when she didn't, asked, "How are you and Julie related?"

Cheryl inhaled deeply and exhaled before finally turning back to Carol. "She's my daughter."

Carol's eyes widened at the realization and she mentally scolded herself for not seeing the connection before: hadn't Cheryl's reaction to Julie's absence been similar to her own meltdown when Sophia went missing? Hadn't Cheryl been reduced to skin and bones for Julie's sake? But she seemed so young that Carol had just assumed the two were sisters.

Whether Cheryl read her mind, or was just tired of the confused faces around the room, Carol's question was almost immediately answered: "I had her young. Bobby and I were 16 when she was born, and we got married about a year later." Cheryl gazed down to her left hand sadly. "I lost my ring ages ago. It must have fallen off one day when things got bad."

"How old is she now?" Lori asked quietly, more curiosity than judgment in her voice.

"Julie? Almost four," Cheryl said and Carol noticed a hint of pride behind her sad smile. "She's been so good this whole time. I thought raising a toddler was hard before, but now it's damn near impossible."

Lori offered a small smile. "I thought I had it bad. Our son Carl is 12…I think he's in the other room with Julie right now."

Cheryl smiled. "Well, I'd love for her to be around some kids for a change. It was mostly teenagers and adults in my old group." She glanced to Carol. "Are there any other kids here?"

Carol saw Daryl stiffen out of the corner of her eye and she shot him a tiny twist of her lips in an attempt to tell him it was okay. Unfortunately, Lori, Rick, and Hershel were much more obvious in their concern; they looked at her as if they expected her to fall to the floor in a crying heap.

Fighting through the tightness in her throat and the hollow ache in her stomach, Carol turned to the younger girl. "I had a little girl. Sophia, she was 12, just like Carl." She was about to say, 'she's no longer with us,' but her voice caught in her throat and she had to pause.

Carol wasn't sure if Cheryl noticed her own pained expression or the giant shift in the room's atmosphere, but her eyes filled with tears as said in a quiet voice, "I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure she was lovely."

Daryl exhaled sharply from across the room. "Wanna get back to explaining why there was a walker in your car?" he said in what Carol saw was forced indifference.

Cheryl bit her lip as tears started falling down her face again. "I didn't know," she whispered desperately. "I didn't know he'd been bitten."

Rick narrowed his eyes. "You didn't know?"

Cheryl screwed her eyes shut tightly. "Bobby didn't want to go to Atlanta because he thought the walkers would have overrun everything by now. We split up from the group, walked when we had to, took cars when we could." She opened her eyes. "It was awful. One of us always had to stay up to keep watch because we could never find anywhere safer to spend the night than locked cars and the occasional abandoned shed."

Cheryl's blue eyes were frantic and she seemed to forget where she was. "We were running out supplies, starving to death, burning up in the heat, so Bobby went into the nearest town to see if he could find some food or bottled water while I stayed with Julie. He had a bite when he came back, but he told me it was some scared dog that had been trapped in the pharmacy."

"And you believed him?" Daryl asked incredulously. When Hershel shushed him, he glared daggers into the older man's back.

Cheryl glared right back at Daryl. "He's my husband. Yes, I believed him." But as she continued her story, Carol noticed she sounded less sure. "I didn't think he would do anything that would put Julie in danger. So when he started burning up, I thought the dog had been rabid or something, that maybe his bite was getting infected."

Carol heard Daryl grumble under his breath about '_something_ being infected, alright,' but Cheryl didn't seem to hear him.

"I started driving, figured I could try to find a hospital or school or some place that had medicine that would help…" Her voice trailed off.

"But then he turned," Carol finished softly.

Cheryl nodded. "And he reached for me. And I crashed."

The room was silent for a moment, everyone digesting the story that Cheryl had just relayed.

"You're welcome to stay here," Hershel said finally. "You and Julie both. You had a bad cut on your head and two fractured ribs, but I stitched you and wrapped you as best I could. But you should thank Rick and Daryl, here; they saved you and your little girl."

Rick looked up. "Daryl and I were in the woods when we heard the crash. We saw you and Julie, got you out of the car, and brought you here."

Cheryl glanced between Rick and Daryl. "Thank you," she said quietly, and Carol tried to identify the strange tone her voice had suddenly taken.

Carol had decided she was just hearing things by the time Hershel spoke again. "You should rest. Be sure to finish that water, and try to take it easy. We'll send someone in to check on you in a few hours."

Cheryl attempted to sit up straighter, but winced and sank down again. "Can I at least see my little girl? Please?"

Hershel didn't look happy. "I don't want you over-exerting yourself. Rib fractures can take six to ten weeks to heal, so you're already looking at a long recovery period."

The look on Cheryl's face tugged at Carol's heartstrings so fiercely that she found herself blurting out, "I'll stay with her and Julie. I'll make sure things don't get too out of hand."

Cheryl smiled widely and Hershel sighed. "Fine," he said, lifting a finger to Carol. "But I'm counting on you to keep an eye on them." He turned and followed Rick and Lori out of the room while Daryl lingered.

Barely a minute later, Julie skipped into the room, blue eyes shining and curls bouncing. She had a piece of paper in her hand when she scrambled up onto the bed and sat next to her mother.

"Mama, I drew a puppy!" she smiled, shoving a piece of paper under Cheryl's nose.

Though Carol could see that it was just a few sloppy lines and shapes drawn with a brown marker, she smiled. She remembered back when Sophia was little and she would draw pictures of butterflies, princesses, castles, or monsters. Ed had never allowed her to clutter up the fridge with her artwork, but Carol kept it all in a box on the top shelf in her and Ed's closet. Of course it had been left behind with many of their possessions when they tried to escape the outbreak…

"Wow, look at that!" Cheryl said in an overly excited voice, taking the picture from Julie. "It's beautiful, Jules! What are you gonna draw next?"

The toddler held her hands out in an exaggerated shrug and flopped down next to her mother, laying her head against Cheryl's side. Wincing and screwing her eyes shut, Cheryl pulled Julie as close to her as she could.

Carol thought about telling them to readjust or nagging Cheryl about her injuries, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Even in intense pain, Cheryl looked ecstatic to have her daughter next to her again.

As if he was finally satisfied with Carol's decision to stay in the bedroom, Daryl began to move away from his spot at the door. He froze when Julie spoke again.

"Mommy?" she asked, curiosity clear in her voice.

"Yes, baby girl?"

"Why did daddy try to bite you?"

Carol felt the air rush out of her lungs very quickly. The pain in Cheryl's eyes was worse than if the girl had broken every single one of her ribs.

"That wasn't daddy," she whispered, stroking Julie's hair. "That was just someone who looked like him."

Carol locked eyes with Daryl for only a split second before he raced out, door slamming shut behind him.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Goodness gracious, this chapter did not want to be written. I think it had mostly to do with the fact that I had about half a dozen ideas for it but only a few of them actually moved the story along. But here it is, my beautiful readers! Once again, thank you all so much for your kind words, your reviews, and your alert subscriptions. I do a little happy dance every time I get an e-mail from this site, no joke.

_Disclaimer__: The song featured in this chapter does not belong to me, but it's beautiful so you should all definitely hop on iTunes and buy it or at least go listen to it on YouTube or something._

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

Carol hadn't seen Daryl since Julie's question had sent him from the room the day before. She knew well enough to leave him alone, that he would come around when he was ready, but she couldn't help but sneak glances out the window as she sat with Cheryl that afternoon.

"Am I keeping you?" the girl teased, jolting Carol out of a particularly long look out across the yard.

Carol smiled. "No, of course you're not." She stepped towards the bed and sat gingerly next to Cheryl.

Cheryl beamed. "Good. I'd probably go crazy if I didn't have you to sit with me."

Carol frowned slightly. It was true; Cheryl was under strict orders from Hershel to exert herself as little as possible until they could make sure there were no lasting effects from the cut on her head. This meant the girl mostly stayed in bed, only venturing out into the house every so often to see Julie or come to meals. Carol wanted to say that Hershel was just doting on her the same way as he did his daughters, but she knew the real reason was far more serious: after a walker had found its way into their sanctuary and attacked one of their own, it wasn't safe for anyone to be wandering around by themselves, especially not someone with an injury who couldn't so easily escape an attack.

But she tried not to dwell on that too much.

Her hand fluttered up to the choppy ends of Cheryl's hair and she was just about to ask for the story behind them when Carl stuck his head into the room.

"Can I come in?" he asked politely and the two women nodded. When Carl tottered into the room with Julie in his arms, Carol heard Cheryl giggle beside her.

"You're keeping her out of trouble I hope?" she asked. Julie had spent the night in her mother's bed, but had run off to play with Patricia and Carl immediately after breakfast.

Carl frowned. "Well, I was trying to, but Patricia says it's time for her to take a nap and Julie won't sleep."

At the mention of her name, the toddler turned her face away from where it had been buried in Carl's shoulder, her lips sticking out in a pout. "I need a song," she said grumpily.

Carol smiled and took the girl from Carl, who was also pouting at this point.

"I tried to sing to her," he said in a frustrated tone. "But she didn't like anything I sang."

Cheryl sighed and leaned towards Julie, who was now situated in Carol's lap. "You're a booger, you know that?" She looked up at Carl. "Thank you for trying. You're very sweet."

Carl looked up at her, his face serious. "I'm gonna be a big brother soon, so I thought I'd practice while I can. I have to keep the new baby safe and happy."

Cheryl's eyebrows shot up, but Carol was thankful when the girl's voice came out steady. "Well that's exciting! I'm sure you'll make a great big brother." She turned her gaze back to Julie. "Boog is just in a Little Mermaid craze right now, so that's the only thing she'll listen to."

Carol almost laughed when Carl nodded, as if he was taking mental notes on the ways of toddlers. She had to admit he was not taking his role of "Big Brother Carl" lightly, and it was nice to see him so excited for something, especially after his change in behavior over the last couple of days.

"Then we should sing her something from that," he said, walking to the other side of the bed and settling down in the chair.

"Excellent idea, Carl!" Cheryl said with a grin. "How about it, Jules? Do you have any requests?"

"If Only," Julie said immediately. It was clear that she didn't even have to think about it.

Cheryl bit her lip. "Sorry, kiddo. That's a quartet."

"What's a quartet?" Julie asked, puzzled.

Cheryl held up four fingers and wiggled them in Julie's face. "Four people singing at once. Unfortunately, there's only one of me."

"You and daddy sang it together."

Cheryl squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and Carol was tempted to burst into a rendition of "Under the Sea" (the only Little Mermaid song she was familiar with) just to get her off the hook.

"Yeah, well we'd divide up the parts when we could and we still never got the full thing…" she trailed off and fiddled with the hem of the blanket.

Carol looked down at Julie, her big blue eyes filled with hurt and confusion, and she immediately thought of Sophia; the way her eyes would fill up with tears, that same hurt and confusion, after one of Ed's rampages. She had never been able to understand why her father would get so angry and why her mother would stand by and let it all happen.

"Maybe you could try," Carol whispered. "Do your best."

Cheryl looked up and then sighed. "Okay." She scooted towards Julie and began stroking her hair while she sang.

"_If only you could know  
>The things I long to say<br>If only I could tell you  
>What I wish I could convey<br>It's in my every glance  
>My heart's an open book<br>You'd see it all at once  
>If only you would look…<em>"

She had a pretty voice, bright and clear and perfect for Disney. Cheryl continued to sing two more stanzas before pausing awkwardly.

"Then Eric sings," Julie said sleepily.

Cheryl smirked. "Yes, then Eric sings." She turned to Carol, who gave her an encouraging nod, and then continued.

"_If only it were true  
>If only for a while<br>If only you would notice  
>How I ache behind my smile<br>I guess you never will  
>I guess it doesn't show<br>But if I never find a way to tell you so  
>Oh, what I would give<br>If only you could know._"

Julie's eyelids were drooping at this point. "Then Sebastian…then King Triton…"

Cheryl nodded. "And then they all sing." Her voice was quiet as she sang out the last few lines.

"_Oh what I would give  
>If only you could know.<br>If only…_"

Carol looked down to her lap to see that Julie was curled into a little ball, asleep.

"That was really pretty, Cheryl," Carl whispered as he stood and walked over to Carol. "I can take her across the hall to Patricia."

Carol was about to protest, saying that Julie could just nap with Cheryl, but one look at the young girl's face revealed that she was on the verge of tears. Instead, Carol smiled and carefully placed the sleeping toddler in Carl's arms. He nodded his head in thanks and tip-toed out of the room.

When Carol turned back to Cheryl, she saw that she had curled up on her good side, away from the door.

Carol stroked her hair gently. "I didn't recognize that song from the movie," she said softly.

"It wasn't," Cheryl said, sniffling. "It's from the musical. A while back, Bobby wanted to get the movie soundtrack and he picked up the Broadway recording instead, by accident. But now it's practically all she'll listen to."

"You have a very pretty voice."

"Thanks. Bobby and I both sang. We played guitar too, but we had to leave ours behind when we ran." Cheryl's voice was at a whisper now.

Carol was about to mention Glenn's guitar, suggest she teach him how to play, maybe pick it back up herself to keep busy. But she felt Cheryl's body start to shake and she knew the girl was sobbing and suddenly words didn't seem like enough. She lowered herself onto her own side and gingerly wrapped Cheryl in her embrace, letting her cry herself out.

Cheryl spoke frantically and while Carol could barely understand her, she got the gist of everything: she couldn't breathe without Bobby. She was trying for Julie's sake, but it was harder than anything she's ever had to do. Something about them being neighbors since they were six, how he dared her to climb up a tree and she fell and broke her arm and he picked her a bouquet of daisies to say sorry. How they were thirteen and her parents would scream at each other loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood and he would climb through her window and sleep on the floor next to her bed. How all of their family photos were still in the crashed car with all of their other belongings and it was too dangerous to go back and get them. How he was everything and now he was gone.

She spoke and cried and Carol held her close and stroked her hair and tried to soothe her. Cheryl managed to cry herself to sleep after about half an hour, but Carol lay awake with a heavy heart.

She felt him there before she heard him. Carol slowly sat up and turned towards the door and sure enough, there was Daryl leaning against the frame.

After all the raw emotion she had experienced in a short amount of time, she longed to throw herself at him, to collapse into his chest, but she was terrified he wouldn't catch her. So she simply stood and asked quietly, "How long have you been standing there?"

"A while," he whispered back.

"Why?"

"I came looking for you. Heard crying." She could tell from the look in his eyes that he had feared the tears were hers.

Carol stepped closer to him. "Where were you?" she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Daryl glanced away, unable to meet her gaze. "Out. Just out."

On any other day, Carol would have left it alone. But she was tired. She was tired of not knowing, of making the long trek to his empty tent every morning, of the way she couldn't help glancing out the window every minute to see if he had returned. Her hand shot forward and she grabbed his desperately.

"Please don't pull away again. I can't do it anymore."

Daryl looked down their clasped hands in confusion, but he didn't pull away. "Do what?"

"She's hurting," Carol answered simply. "She's hurting badly and I know what that's like. I'm getting stronger, but if you keep disappearing, I'll be just as bad as her. As I was after I lost Sophia."

Daryl's face was unreadable at this point and Carol internally cursed at how clumsy her words had sounded.

When he finally spoke, his voice was even. "I told you I always come back."

Carol bit her lip and she saw his eyes flicker downwards for a split second before meeting her gaze again. He let out a deep breath and she could tell he was getting confused and frustrated.

"_Spooked_," she thought miserably.

So when he finally stepped back, she let his fingers slide gently out of hers. She let him storm down the hall in an angry haze and stalk down the porch and isolate himself _again_, all because she hadn't managed to find the words to properly explain how she felt about him.

Carol glanced over her shoulder and saw Cheryl's back still turned towards her. As she turned to leave the room, Julie's lullaby echoed through her head:

"_I guess it doesn't show  
>But if I never find a way to tell you so<br>Oh, what I would give  
>If only you could know.<em>"

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><p>When she was sure that Carol was a good distance down the hall, Cheryl rolled onto her back. She had tried to drift off when her tears had finally stopped, but it had been no use. Especially when Carol left the bed and she and Daryl had started talking.<p>

Carol.

Cheryl had only known the woman for a day and a half, but she already felt more love and compassion from her than she had ever received from her own mother. It was like they had known each other for years. Carol had listened to her pointless stories and comforted her when she was upset and Cheryl felt like she was in debt to her and her kindness.

And then there was Daryl. Cheryl chewed on her thumbnail as she stared up at the ceiling. She didn't know him as well, but he saved her life. He wasn't friendly or approachable like Carol, but she was still indebted to him as well. And Carol seemed to think the world of him, so he had to be good.

She couldn't hunt, couldn't track, and if someone handed her a gun, she wouldn't know the first thing about how to fire it. She didn't know which plants were edible and which were poisonous and her small frame made heavy-lifting almost impossible. Cheryl Briggs was useless to the world as it was now.

But if she knew one thing, it was people. She couldn't read them like a book, per say; more like a map with twists and turns and intersections. Cheryl didn't always know _why_ people did the things they did and it was entirely capable to lose sight of the main road amongst all the other intersecting paths. But she knew enough to make assessments that were usually right.

She heard them speak. She heard the hurt in Carol's voice and the confusion in Daryl's. And she had learned the day before that in a room full of crowded people, Daryl and Carol found each others gaze almost instantly. That proved that there was _something_ there, and that was enough for her to work with at the moment.

Though her cheeks were still slightly damp from her tears, Cheryl couldn't help but smile. With the satisfaction that she already had a plan forming in her aching head, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I'm really not sure you guys realize A) how freaking AWESOME y'all are and B) how much fun I'm having writing this. Seriously. A billion thanks to all of you! Like Chapter 6, this one isn't super heavy in the Caryl interaction, but I _promise_ to make up for everything in Chapter 8. Cross my heart! This one is a bit on the long side, but I couldn't bear to cut anything out. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

Carol wasn't quite sure how she had come to the conclusion that one miserable task would cancel out another miserable task, but she was now aware of how very wrong she had been. She was sitting at the table of the RV with a small pile of Dale's possessions in front of her, trying to sort through what should be saved and what should be tossed. She had hoped that cleaning up around the RV would distract her from the anger she felt towards herself for letting Daryl slip away again the previous afternoon, but it only reminded her of Dale's absence and added to her pain.

But she was halfway through the task at this point, and she knew she had to keep going. Dale didn't have much and the pile was mostly clothing, but Carol continued to sort, picking out the holey t-shirts and worn down pants that they could cut up and use as rope, bandages, or rags. There were some books, too, but Carol couldn't bring herself to throw any of them out (no matter how terrible they were) because they had so little reading material in this new world.

She was just finishing up when she heard the door of the RV open. Her head shot up instinctively, praying Daryl had finally come back and she could have a second chance to say what was on her mind, but Cheryl was there instead.

Carol felt a little guilty for the rush of disappointment she felt at the sight of the girl. She forced a smile. "Finally out of the house, I see."

Cheryl grinned. "Yeah, well, Hershel and I had a chat and I pointed out that I can't sit in bed for six to ten weeks, waiting to heal completely. He checked out my head again, made sure everything was okay, and sent me on my way!"

She walked towards the table and Carol noticed how careful and slow her steps were. She frowned. "How much pain are you in?"

Cheryl chuckled as she gingerly sat down. "It's not very fun, but I'm on _a lot_ of medication. Thank you, Hershel!"

Carol smirked and shook her head. "What brings you all the way out here?"

"I was looking for you," Cheryl said, her voice almost sickly sweet. Carol felt her eyebrow quirk upwards.

"And why would that be?"

"As you can see, my hair is a mess. I thought maybe you could help me even it out, so I asked Lori where you were." She pulled her hand out from under the table and Carol noticed that she was holding a small pair of scissors.

"Why didn't you ask Lori to do it? She would have done just as good a job, and you wouldn't have had to walk all the way out here."

Cheryl's smile faltered for a split second before she plastered another dazzling grin on her face. Carol's suspicions were confirmed as soon as she opened her mouth: "I just thought we could talk."

Carol made her way to the other side of the table and Cheryl scooted to accommodate her. As she took the scissors from Cheryl and combed through her hair with her fingers, she said, "Alright. What did you want to talk about?"

"Oh, nothing in particular," Cheryl said brightly. "How are you?"

"Fine."

Carol snipped away with a knowing smile on her face. Though she had lost her daughter, she was still a mom and she still had some tricks up her sleeve. She figured that getting Cheryl to spill whatever thoughts she was holding back would be a piece of cake.

Cheryl stiffened slightly when Carol didn't offer her anything more. She continued.

"Did anything interesting happen today?"

"No."

"Think it'll rain soon?"

"Perhaps."

"What's the Korean guy's name again?"

"Glenn."

"And he's with Maggie?"

"Yes."

"Do you play any instruments?"

"Piano."

Cheryl seemed to be getting more and more frustrated and it was harder for Carol to keep a straight face. She mused that she might have had similar conversations with a teenage Sophia had things turned out differently. While the realization that she would never know for sure saddened her, she couldn't deny that she was enjoying her passive-aggressive battle with the young mother. Cheryl's hair was very fine and Carol worked quickly, completely unphased.

"You remind me of my aunt."

"Interesting."

"Do you have any siblings?"

"No."

"Do you enjoy cold weather?"

"Sometimes."

"Daryl seems nice."

_Bingo._

Carol paused. Here it was: the subject that Cheryl had been dying to address since she first stepped foot in the RV. "Does he, now?"

"Yeah, he does."

"Daryl Dixon."

"That's the one."

"You think he seems nice?"

"That's what I said."

Carol continued her work in silence, occasionally combing her fingers through Cheryl's hair. She felt the girl tense up under her; she could tell that this wasn't how Cheryl had expected the conversation to go.

Carol didn't speak again until she was satisfied that she had sufficiently evened everything out. Then she placed the scissors on the table and went to the small closet, retrieving a broom and dustpan to sweep the hair off the floor.

Cheryl shifted uncomfortably in her seat as she watched Carol work. "Thanks for that. One of the girls in my last group got killed when a walker caught her by the hair. She couldn't get away…" she paused. "We were close. I kinda freaked out that night, went crazy, and hacked my hair off with Bobby's knife. It used to be down to my waist."

Carol emptied the dustpan into the trashcan before turning back to Cheryl. "I'm sorry to hear that." She returned to her seat at the table.

Shrugging, Cheryl ran her fingers through her hair. "Yeah, well…we don't have to talk about that." She smiled slightly. "What were we talking about again?"

Carol had a good idea that she knew _exactly _what they had been talking about.

"You were just telling me that the man who has barely spoken to you since you got here and has done nothing but lean against the wall broodingly and disappear into the woods 'seems nice.'" Carol said, a smirk on her face.

Cheryl was silent. Carol could tell she had poked a gaping hole in the girl's logic, and she couldn't help but mentally pat herself on the back for doing so.

"He's good to Julie."

"He hasn't spent any time with Julie."

"Well, he hasn't shot her yet."

Carol knew it was a joke, but the idea of anyone accusing Daryl of hurting an innocent human being, especially a child, upset her. "Daryl would never do that," she said quietly.

Embarrassed, Cheryl seemed to realize that she had crossed a line and mumbled an apology.

Carol sighed. "Daryl…well, Daryl's a little difficult to understand," she explained. "I used to think he was dangerous, heartless even, but then…" she trailed off.

Cheryl stared intently at her. "Then what?"

Biting her lip, Carol looked down to her hands, now clasped in her lap. It was time to talk about Sophia.

So she did. She told Cheryl everything, from the moment that Sophia ran into the woods, to her final steps out of the barn: Daryl leaving to search at the sight of Carol's tears, Daryl almost dying from an arrow in the side and a bullet to the temple, and the Cherokee roses. Even how he held her as Sophia stepped into the sunlight and how angry he had been when she didn't want to come to the burial.

Cheryl sat there, eyes wide, gasping at all the appropriate moments. When Carol had finally finished, tears were streaming down the young girl's face.

"Carol…" she whispered. "I…I don't know what to say…"

Carol smiled sadly. She reached up a hand to brush away Cheryl's tears, but Cheryl swatted it away.

"Stop! God," she said, turning away and rubbing her own face roughly. "You just poured out your heart and now you're comforting _me_." She took a deep breath. "I'm fine, I promise."

But when she looked back to Carol, her eyes started swimming again. She slapped her hands over her face. "God, I'm such a _baby_!" she wailed. "I'm sorry!"

Though Carol had been close to tears only moments before, she couldn't help but laugh. "It's fine, sweetheart. You're a mom." She pat Cheryl's knee. "You can only imagine what it's like to lose a child…"

A throat cleared in the direction of the door and the two women jumped. Standing there was a very serious Daryl Dixon.

Carol's hand flew to her chest and she could feel her heart fluttering wildly under the fabric of her t-shirt. "I didn't hear the door open," she said lamely.

Daryl grunted and stepped forward. There was a large bag slung over his shoulder and his eyes shifted around before he finally settled on Cheryl. He stepped towards the table and set the bag down in front of her.

"Went back to your car and found this in the back." He shrugged. "Thought you might want it."

Cheryl's eyes flew between the bag and Daryl and her mouth opened, though no words came out. She grabbed the bag and started rummaging through it, as if desperately looking for something.

"Oh yeah," Daryl said, pulling a book from behind his back. "Found this under the seat, too."

Hands shaking, Cheryl took the book from him and started flipping through it. Carol realized it was the lost photo album Cheryl had been lamenting over the previous day.

Cheryl shut the album. When she looked up, her eyes were swimming once again. "Thank you," she whispered, holding it tightly to her chest.

Daryl only nodded. When he turned to leave, he and Carol locked eyes briefly and she could see an upwards twitch of his lip. Her heart fluttered again and he was gone.

There was a moment of silence before Cheryl abruptly shot up, slamming the photo album down on the table. She swore loudly and brought a hand to her ribs, but scooted past Carol and towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Carol asked, bewildered.

Cheryl muttered something Carol couldn't quite make out. Before she reached the door, Cheryl seemed to realize where she was and turned back around.

"Sorry," she said wildly, returning to the bag and rummaging through it. "Thanks for the haircut. Do you like marshmallows?"

Carol's mouth opened and closed a few times before she managed to get the words out. "I…yes, sure, why do you ask?"

From the bottom of the bag, Cheryl pulled out a bag of marshmallows and placed them on the table. "Bobby got them on our last forage. Consider them payment." She turned and limped briskly from the RV, leaving Carol alone and very confused.

* * *

><p>Daryl was confident he could outrun the girl even at her healthiest, so he barely had to increase his speed before she was half a yard's length behind him. He assumed she would give up chase when he retreated to his tent, but she continued to hobble behind him the whole way, arms locked by her sides. He was sitting in front of the fire pit, cleaning his crossbow when she finally reached his corner of the yard.<p>

He didn't need to look up to know Cheryl was standing there, staring holes into his head. Daryl waited for her to speak, but she didn't; she just stood there, staring, for a good few minutes.

His crossbow thoroughly clean, he could do nothing but sit while she stood there. Growing tired of the silence, he finally looked up. "You gonna cry again?"

He had meant it as a jab, hoping she would get angry and leave him alone. But she stood her ground.

"Why?"

He stood and walked to the woodpile, pulling out a particularly large stick. "Why what?"

She bit her lip as he pulled out his knife and started to carve into the wood. "Why did you go back and get my stuff?"

Daryl shrugged. "I was already out that way."

She didn't seem convinced. "The road is miles from here."

He had gone looking for Carol yesterday and found more than he bargained for. He had heard Cheryl's story from the hallway and watched while Carol held her and comforted her. It felt like something he hadn't been meant to see, something private a raw. Daryl had been about to sneak away and pretend he hadn't seen a thing, but Carol had seen him before he could.

She had been forward enough when they spoke; she wanted him to stick around. But what he couldn't figure out was _why_. Whydid she need him to be there when she was doing just fine comforting Cheryl without him? And then she had his hand in hers and his head was swimming and he was cursing himself for not getting the hell out of there when he had the chance. The most frustrating thing about it was that she made it sound so easy.

And it was easy for Carol, wasn't it? She had spent her entire life caring about people while he had spent his alone, save for Merle. Merle had always just fought what he didn't understand and that's exactly what he had passed on to Daryl: fight or flight. Daryl would rather take another arrow to the side than fight Carol, so he ran.

He was good at running, after all.

Daryl had regretted it as soon as he reached the woods, but he couldn't very well turn back and apologize. At least not right then. He had taken to the woods, his own little sanctuary, but he couldn't shake the echoes of Cheryl's tears in his head. By the time he got to road, he figured that he could help out Cheryl while also redeeming himself in Carol's eyes; two birds, one stone.

But when he turned to meet Cheryl's gaze for the first time since she had planted her feet in his camp, all he could manage was, "It ain't that far."

Cheryl was silent. Daryl was just starting to hope she would finally turn around and leave him alone when she spoke again.

"I need a favor."

"_What_?"

She crossed her arms in front her chest nervously. "I was planning something for tonight and I need you to be there. It won't work unless you're there."

"Listen here," he said, throwing down the stick and his knife in a blind rage. "I put my ass on the line yankin you outta that car, saved you from your walker husband, brought you here, _and_ risked my ass _again _to get your shit!"

He advanced on her and for a moment, it looked like she was going to run. But she didn't. She was shaking slightly, but she held her ground, angering him even more.

"I'm not your errand boy. You don't get to come here and ask for more '_favors_,' got it?"

"Then don't do it for me!" she blurted out. "Do it for Carol!"

He stopped short, only about a foot from her face. Daryl felt his eyes narrow. "What's Carol got to do with this?"

She let out a loud huff. "For the record, I didn't ask you to do any of that for me." Daryl's fists clenched and she hastily added, "But I'm grateful you did. And I can't figure out why you're doing all these nice things and then running away from everyone. You obviously care."

He blinked, not sure how to respond to that. She continued.

"Carol told me about Sophia," Cheryl said, sadness clear on her face. "She told me what you did and she thinks the world of you. She really does."

Daryl averted his gaze, feeling heat creep into his cheeks. He tried to picture the two women sitting there, talking about him, and his throat tightened up significantly when the imaginary Carol smiled brightly. "Yeah, well, it didn't do much in the end."

Cheryl shrugged. "But it meant a lot to her. And this whole 'Camp Dixon' thing you've got goin on," she gestured around them, "is really starting to get to her."

"I'm sure it ain't," Daryl said gruffly, finally starting to move away. "She's got you to keep her busy after all."

"At least think about, please," Cheryl said quietly. "One night. The whole group'll be there. I just want to thank you guys for everything."

Daryl gave a small nod in response and turned to walk back towards the fire pit. When he heard her finally turn to walk away, he whipped around before he could stop himself.

"Cheryl."

She looked over her shoulder. "Yeah?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Why you doin this?"

Cheryl turned slowly to face him, a small smile playing at her lips. "Carol's special," she said simply. "She's good. And like I said, she thinks the world of you. So I guess that makes you good too."

He watched her walked away for a moment before turning to pick up his knife. Before he could reach it, he heard her shout, "Oh, and the whole 'risking your ass' thing. That too." She waved her hand dismissively and continued back towards the house.

Daryl let out a harsh chuckle before reaching out again to retrieve his knife.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Here's some attempted fluff for you ;] I think this might have been my favorite chapter to write so far. ALSO, I wanted to let y'all know that I've been looking at the outline for this story and I _think_ we're going to be looking at 12 chapters total. So brace yourselves, it's about to get crazy up in here. Needless to say, I adore everyone who is reading and reviewing and loving this story. And I'm thankful for each and every one of you :]

The song featured in this chapter is "Holding Out For a Hero" performed by Ella Mae Bowen. I know that that version of the song wasn't released until 2011 (technically after the show's zombie apocalypse) but I couldn't imagine a better song for this little shindig. I highly recommend listening to it while reading the chapter; it's beautiful.

Alright, that's enough chatter! On with the story.

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

Daryl stared across the yard to where the group had gathered around a campfire, talking and laughing. Cheryl had started the setup almost immediately after their conversation and he had spent a good portion of the afternoon watching her and Carol set up for the event: pulling out folding chairs, unwinding coat hangers, and carrying out any food that Hershel had been nice enough to give them.

Glenn joined them with his guitar later in the evening and he and Cheryl chattered on about the instrument for a while. Daryl rolled his eyes when he saw the three later, rolling a large log from the mouth of the woods to set in front of the RV. Cheryl was trying to turn this into some campy little gathering, as if the world _wasn't_ going to shit around them.

So he had sat, watched, and waited, trying to decide whether or not he would honor Cheryl's request. Most everyone on the farm was gathered around the little fire with the exception of Hershel, Patricia, Jimmy, and Beth, and they all seemed to be enjoying themselves. The smell of roasting hot dogs was slowly making its way to the edge of Daryl's camp and it was almost heavenly compared to the squirrel cooking over his own fire.

In an instant, his feet were moving towards the RV. Daryl was gritting his teeth, thinking about telling the group how stupid they were being; with the lights, sounds, and smells they were sending out, you'd think they'd have _wanted_ to attract walkers to the area. He was barely halfway there when a breeze stirred the fire and illuminated Carol's face brightly. She was smiling, genuinely smiling, with no signs of sadness for the first time he had seen in weeks.

There was an odd tingle down Daryl's spine as he continued to move towards her, and by the time he reached the fire, he had decided not to bring up the chance of walkers finding them. Especially not after he saw the guns that sat at almost everyone's feet, as what he assumed was a safety precaution.

"Daryl!" Cheryl called when he stepped into her line of sight. Her whole face lit up from her seat on the log that she was sharing with Glenn and Maggie, and Daryl noticed she was holding the guitar. "Grab a stick and take a seat! There's an empty spot next to Carol."

Sure enough, the only unoccupied chair left in the circle was to Carol's left. Daryl wondered for a moment if Cheryl had done that on purpose, but a grumble in his stomach brought him out of his thoughts.

"Saved one for you," said a quiet voice to his right, and he looked to find Carol holding out a hot dog speared on a coat hanger.

He took it from her with a nod and sat down. "How'd you know I'd show up?"

Cheryl started strumming the guitar and launched into some poppy country song about how the streets look after the rain. Carol shrugged. "I didn't. I was just hoping."

She smiled again and his stomach flipped as he focused his attention back to the fire and his cooking hotdog.

Rick and Lori sat in two chairs that they had pulled close together and Carl was at their feet, holding Julie in his lap. Shane was to their left, a little ways away, and he kept glancing up at them when he thought no one was looking. Andrea was next to him, then Carol and Daryl, evenly spaced for the most part. Cheryl sat on one end of the log with Glenn and Maggie cuddled up together on the other side. T-Dog finished out the circle, and everyone cooked and ate in silence as Cheryl came to the end of her song.

They applauded, some more enthusiastically than others. Cheryl smiled and stood, placing the guitar down on the log next to her. She cleared her throat.

"Well, I would just like to thank everyone for coming and joining me this evening at my little appreciative campfire party! A big "thank you" to Carol for helping with setup, Maggie for letting us gorge ourselves on her family's food, and Glenn for donating a guitar that technically doesn't belong to him."

There were collective giggles and hoots around the circle as Carol and Maggie raised their hands in acknowledgment and Glenn took a small bow. Cheryl applauded before continuing.

"But mostly, I really just want to thank y'all for the kindness you've shown me. Taking care of Julie and me, accepting us into your family…it means a lot. Especially with the way things are out there." Daryl noticed her glance towards the barn and he wondered if she was afraid that she was one wrong move from ending up in there, chained alongside Randall.

Cheryl's smile returned again and she glanced around the circle. "Alright, I've got another song for you guys. It's one of my favorites." She addressed the whole group, but her eyes landed on Daryl. "And feel free to move around a bit, it's a party after all."

He narrowed his eyes. Daryl didn't know what she was planning, but he knew he didn't like it.

Cheryl sat and pulled the guitar back onto her lap again. "One, two, three," she whispered, and then she started playing. It was a slow, soothing song. After a few seconds, Cheryl began to sing softly.

"_Where have all the good men gone  
>And where are the gods?<br>Where's the streetwise Hercules  
>To fight the rising odds?<em>"

Daryl glanced around the circle to see that all eyes were on Cheryl, as if the rest of the group was in some sort of a trance. He glanced back to Cheryl and saw that her focus was on her own strumming fingers.

"_Isn't there a white knight  
>Upon a fiery steed?<br>Late at night I toss and turn  
>And dream of what I need<em>"

She glanced up quickly, caught Daryl's gaze, and flitted her gaze to Carol with a quirk of her lips. There was movement in the corner of his eye and he turned to see Rick, slowly leaving his seat and offering his hand to Lori. To Daryl's horror, she took it and the two came together, swaying along to the music.

They were dancing.

He looked back to Cheryl and saw the laughter behind her eyes, and he realized that this had been her plan all along.

"_I need a hero  
>I'm holding out for a hero til the end of the night<br>He's gotta be strong, he's gotta be fast,  
>and he's got to be larger than life,<br>Larger than life._"

The others began to follow suit; Shane had stared at Rick and Lori with an unreadable look on his face before finally turning and offering his hand to Andrea. She accepted and he pulled her close roughly, though she didn't seem to notice. Glenn and Maggie stood from their spot on the log and Maggie smiled when Glenn wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close to him. Even Carl began to sway from his spot on the ground, rocking Julie along to the beat of the music as he watched his parents dance.

Daryl sat frozen in his seat, glaring at Cheryl. She was ignoring him, her attention focused entirely on the guitar in her hands, but a smile was still playing at the corner of her lips. To hell with the fire, the music, and the whole damn atmosphere; Daryl Dixon didn't _dance_. She could play until her fingers bled for all he cared.

He risked a glance to his right and saw that Carol still had her eyes on Cheryl and the guitar. He breathed a sigh of relief. She knew not to expect something like that from him and he was thankful for that. But as Cheryl played on, he couldn't seem to pull his gaze from Carol and the way she swayed lightly to the music.

As if she sensed him, Carol turned and gave him the smallest of smiles.

Before Daryl could react, T-Dog was standing in from of Carol. He bowed goofily in a playful gesture and offered Carol his hand and she took it, laughing warmly. The two danced together, and Daryl felt his hands curl into fists. It was all for fun, of course. It didn't mean anything. T-Dog knew Daryl wasn't going to ask her, so he did. But still, Daryl's blood boiled at the sight of them, at the sight of anyone with Carol who wasn't him.

"_Up where the mountains meet the heavens above  
>Out where the lightning splits the sea<br>I could swear that there's someone somewhere  
>Watching me<em>"

Daryl could barely hear Cheryl's song as he let out a growl and stalked away from the circle, heading back towards his own camp. Fuck Cheryl and her stupid plan and her pretty song. Fuck T-Dog for asking Carol to dance when he was sitting _right there_. And fuck himself for not having the balls to ask her himself. Daryl was sure no one would notice he was gone; they had all been so wrapped up in each other.

He was a good ways away when he heard the footsteps behind him and he froze when a hand grabbed his arm. Daryl whipped around and there she was, holding on to him with all she had. He looked between Carol and the fire, and saw T-Dog back in his seat, swaying along to Cheryl's song. Though the entire group was only a couple hundred yards away, no one was paying any attention to the two who had run off.

"_I'll meet a hero  
>And then we'll dance til the morning light<br>Dreaming, he will lead me  
>Held tight, tonight's the night<em>"

Wordlessly, he wrapped his arms around Carol's waist and pulled her against him. Her surprise was clear by the way she tensed up, but Carol slowly brought her hands to rest on his shoulders. They stood, both trying to steady their breathing, Daryl trying to get used to the feeling of her body, _anyone's _body, pressed against his. They didn't move or sway, but it was as close to dancing as he was going to get.

It was only another moment before applause broke out in the circle and the two jumped apart in surprise. Cheryl's song had come to an end and the trance she had held the group in seemed to have broken. Carol glanced over her shoulder and then back at him, bringing her hand up to his elbow. She held his gaze as her fingers grazed his skin, down to the tips of his fingers. Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the moonlight and Daryl could almost read her mind: _thank you_.

He tried to nod, but he was in such a fog that he couldn't tell if he actually moved or not. Before he could say anything, she turned and slowly made her way back to the warmth of the campfire.

* * *

><p>It was hours later that Daryl found himself in front of the door to the RV. The fire had long since been put out, the chairs collected, the trash disposed of. He hadn't returned to the circle after Carol had left him in the yard, instead returning to his own camp and tending to the blackened squirrel carcass that he had forgotten to take off the fire.<p>

It had taken a good hour of pacing before his feet had managed to get him to the RV. He nodded to T-Dog who was seated on the roof, keeping watch. T-Dog nodded back and Daryl knew that the incident at the campfire had already been forgotten.

He had no idea what he was going to say or do when he got inside, but he knew that Cheryl's gathering reminded him that he missed Carol's company. So he pressed on and opened the door, walked up the steps into the Winnebago, and shut it behind him.

Daryl never meant to sneak up on Carol, but he always managed to because of his quiet hunter's step. She had been leaning against the counter, back to him, when he shut the door loudly and she jumped. A small white object flew from her hand as she whipped around.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

She held a hand to her heart. "One of these days I'm going to tie a bell around your neck."

He smirked. "I'm sure the deer would thank you for that. Before you starved to death, that is."

He walked forward and glanced over her shoulder to see Cheryl's photo album and a bag of marshmallows open on the counter in front of her. He looked at her and saw her cheeks go pink.

"I feel silly for forgetting Cheryl gave me these this morning," she said, gesturing to the bag. "I mean, we could have roasted them over the fire or something."

"So you figured you'd destroy the evidence?" he asked.

Her blush turned darker. "Well, I thought since no one knew I had them…" she trailed off and quickly stuck another one in her mouth.

Daryl couldn't help but laugh at the sight of a grown woman sneaking sweets like it was some sort of crime. She swatted his arm as he laughed at her, but a grin formed on her own face as well.

"I'm willing to share if it'll keep you quiet," she teased.

Daryl shrugged. "Nah, you don't have to. Never had one anyway, so it's not like I'd miss it."

Carol's mouth dropped open. "Daryl Dixon, you've never eaten a marshmallow?" she asked, shock clear in her voice.

Daryl shook his head. "Dad wasn't keen on spendin his money on sweets so me and Merle went without when we were kids. When I got older, I didn't see much of a point in eatin em."

Carol took a marshmallow from the bag and thrust in under his nose. "Eat," she demanded. "You have to."

Narrowing his eyes, Daryl looked from the marshmallow to the dead-serious look on Carol's face. "You're actin like it's made'a gold or something…"

"It might as well be," she said in a hushed voice and Daryl couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Fine, if it means that much," he said, and he took it from her hand and popped it in his mouth.

He had to admit, the marshmallows were pretty good. He wasn't used to the sweetness or the texture, but the way Carol smiled after he ate each one was enough to keep him going. Twenty minutes later, they found themselves sitting on the floor, backs to the counter, eating marshmallows and looking through Cheryl's photo album.

Carol was giggling at the pictures in the book and Daryl vaguely wondered if Carol on a sugar high was any indication of what she was like when she was drunk. They had all drank together at the CDC, but had gotten so hammered that he hardly remembered how anyone else had been.

"Aw, look at them," she cooed, pointing to a picture of Cheryl, Bobby, and baby Julie wearing Santa hats for their Christmas card photo. Flipping through the pages, they had seen glimpses into the family's old life: a very pregnant Cheryl in her homecoming dress, a sleep-deprived Bobby with newborn Julie, first steps, birthdays, holidays, blanket forts, food fights, and everything in between.

They sat in silence when Carol finally closed the book. Daryl took the last marshmallow from the bag and handed it to Carol as he heard her whisper, "It's a shame."

She didn't elaborate, but she didn't have to. He knew she was talking about Cheryl, who had built a life for herself from what seemed like a hopeless situation, only for the world to find a way to knock her off balance again.

He turned to look at her and she was staring straight ahead, chewing slowly. Carol and he had been knocked off balance long before the walkers came along and he knew it. Maybe that's why they found each other. Maybe that's why he was so willing to go to the ends of the Earth for her, because she could understand him better than anyone, even though they appeared so different on the surface.

Carol didn't meet his gaze, but moved her head to rest on his shoulder. On another day, he might have bolted from his spot on the floor, but tonight had brought a new understanding between them. He couldn't quite put it into words, but it hung in the air all around them.

"Thanks for the dance," she said quietly.

He smirked. "Wasn't really a dance."

"Well thanks anyway."

She turned towards him then and he abruptly realized that their faces were only inches apart. Carol's eyes flickered between his eyes and his mouth and back again and he felt his pulse quicken. "_Fight or flight_," his mind flashed, but he managed to shove it aside when he realized he was close enough to see every speck of color in her eyes and feel her breath, hot and sweet, against his lips.

His heart was pounding as they moved closer and closer, her eyes were starting to flutter closed and his nose brushed past hers…

The door to the RV swung open and they jumped apart to find Cheryl standing there. Her eyes were rimmed with red and she opened her mouth to speak, but when she realized what she had walked in on, her hand slapped over her eyes in horror.

"Oh God. Oh shit. Oh damn. I'm sorry. Fuck," she cursed, and she blindly felt her way back towards the door. "Forget I was here. Please, for the love of God, go back to doing _exactly _what you were doing before I came in. _Damn_. I'm so sorry. God. Shit. Okay, I'm leaving," she said, and she practically fell out of the RV before slamming the door behind her.

The two sat awkwardly as they could barely hear Cheryl screaming at T-Dog for not warning her before they figured she stormed off back towards the house.

Carol drummed her fingers on the floor and Daryl swallowed hard. The moment had passed and a heavy silence was settling between them. He had wanted it to happen, sure. But the moment Cheryl had worked so hard to create between them had been destroyed in an instant.

"Well," Carol said quietly.

"It's late," he said gruffly. He stood and made his way towards the door, opening it before he looked back. There was a pained expression on Carol's face.

In an attempt to let her know she hadn't been wrong when she inched her way towards him, he gave her a small smile. "Thanks for the marshmallows," he said, before stepping down and making his way back to camp.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: You asked for more, so here I am! In all seriousness, I wasn't expecting to get this chapter up so quickly...lucky for me, the weather here last night was crazy-bad and exactly what I've been picturing for this chapter for a while now, so I used it as inspiration! I hope none of you wanted to hurt me _too _badly after I left you hanging last chapter, because you're all wonderful and amazing and I adore you. I really, really do :] So onward we go!

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

The girl was good at hiding; that much Carol knew. It was early evening the day after the campfire and Carol hadn't seen Cheryl once, even after searching the entirety of Hershel's farm. The field, the house, the stable, it was always the same: "You just missed her." "She, Julie, and Carl just left." "They're fine, I just saw them."

At first Carol had found it frustrating. She had grown accustomed to having Cheryl around and she missed her company. But after a while, she had to admit that the situation was a little humorous. Images of Cheryl hobbling around the farm, herding the children to a new location every time she was spotted ran through Carol's head and made her laugh. She couldn't really blame Cheryl for being embarrassed.

Carol felt herself blush as she remembered Daryl's hot breath on her face and the softness in his eyes. It had been such a sharp contrast to the hardness they had held as of late. The RV had been impossibly cold and empty after he left her there alone and she had downright pouted when she finally curled up into bed because her heart wouldn't stop racing.

Almost-kisses and sugar-highs were obviously a bad combination.

She reached the clothesline set up by the RV and mechanically continued the folding she had started that morning. Dark clouds were beginning to roll in and the wind had picked up immensely when Carol saw them out of the corner of her eye: Cheryl tiptoeing back to the house from the direction of the well with a blonde head and a sheriff's hat bobbing behind her. Carol considered running to her then, but there was still a decent pile of laundry in front of her and it looked like it was about to rain.

After all, Cheryl would come out of hiding when she was ready. Carol didn't know the exact reason of her disappearance; there was the embarrassment factor of course, or maybe Cheryl was angry that she had ruined her own clever plan. Or maybe this was her way of proving that she was capable of staying out of the way.

The reasons didn't seem to matter anymore when the first drop of rain hit Carol square in the back. She grumbled under her breath as she slammed clothes down in her basket, not caring what was folded and what wasn't. It was steadily drizzling by the time Carol made her way inside the Winnebago.

"_Should have gone with her after all…_" Carol thought as she sat by the table and shivered. The house would have been a much warmer, nicer place to wait out the rain. The clothes would have been left out to soak, but she didn't much care about that now that the rain was coming down in buckets. The storm had moved in quickly and Carol wondered vaguely if everyone had made it inside in time.

It was growing dark outside and the lights inside the farmhouse flickered on, signifying that the group who had made it to the house had probably started dinner. Carol's stomach grumbled and she went to the cupboards, finding only a box of crackers that had somehow remained untouched after their flight from the CDC. As she munched on a cracker, her mind wandered back to Daryl.

Though Cheryl had successfully disappeared that day, Daryl spent his afternoon around the farm. He always stayed within Carol's line of sight, and she didn't know if it had been coincidence or if she had just watched the hunter more closely than usual. It was with a flip of her stomach that she considered the reverse; that _he_ had been watching _her_ all day. She felt her cheeks heat up and she put down the crackers, food suddenly the last thing on her mind. Then with a jolt, she realized the last time she had seen him was when he was walking back towards his tent. She racked her brain trying to remember if she had seen him come back before the storm hit, and she realized she hadn't.

The wind howled past the Winnebago and Carol looked outside the window, her lip pulled between her teeth. Walkers weren't much to worry about in this intense weather; the loud wind and the thunder confused them, made them disoriented, and the sheets of rain typically knocked them over. Even if they managed to get back on their feet, they wouldn't be able to smell the camp as long as they were a good distance away. It was more worldly things they feared at times like this, like being struck by lightning, catching a cold, or having supplies ruined.

Carol wasn't willing to run to the house, but she knew she could make it to Daryl's tent and convince him to wait out the rain in sturdier shelter. Without really thinking it through, Carol threw open the door and ran outside.

Sheets of water froze her to the core and the darkness was heavy, but she knew the way to Daryl's camp like the back of her hand. She ran, slipping and sometimes sinking into the soaked grass of the yard, but she didn't stop until she had reached her destination. Her frozen fingers fumbled with the zipper, but she finally got it open and threw herself inside the tent.

Carol was both annoyed and relieved to find him there, annoyed that he had been laying so calmly in the flimsy tent that rocked around him and relieved that she hadn't made her trip for nothing. He sat up quickly when she entered, hands immediately flying to the buck knife on his hip before he realized it was her.

"You crazy?" he finally choked out while she sat shivering in front of him.

She narrowed her eyes. "You're the crazy one, staying out here in this thing when it's like this."

He lay back down, folding his arms under his head as a makeshift pillow. "I've seen worse. Ain't too worried."

She reached towards him in the darkness, clawing at his shoulder and pulling him up. He came willingly, though there was a hint of annoyance on his face. "Oh no you don't," she said seriously. "You're not staying in here. The roof could cave in any minute."

He glanced upwards and they both listened to the wind howling and the rain violently pounding against the nylon. Daryl found her face in the darkness. "House's too far," he mumbled. "You'd fall and break an ankle."

She felt herself smile. "I made it from the RV. That's not too far."

He shrugged but moved into a crouching position, signifying that he was ready to run. She rolled up on the balls of her feet and made to open the tent. She hesitated for a moment and then reached back, clasping their fingers together. Carol took a deep breath, thanked God it was too dark for him to see her blush, and they took off.

She still slipped and slid on the wet ground, but he moved nimbly through the rain and did a good job keeping her on her feet. The run to the Winnebago seemed much quicker than the one to his tent had been, but the rain was coming down harder. He reached the door first, pulled it open, and practically yanked her arm off when he pulled her up the stairs and shut the door behind them.

They stood there, panting and shivering, before she finally looked up to find Daryl eying her. She felt her face burn red again before she brushed past him.

"See, it's much better in here." Her hands were shaking nervously and she thought back to what had happened the last time they found themselves alone together in that very kitchen. She dug through the basket and pulled out two towels, tossing one to him. He nodded in thanks and began rubbing at his hair.

"Lucky us, I just brought in the laundry," she said breathlessly, digging through the basket and trying to distract herself from the way the muscles in his arms flexed when he brought them above his head. She finally found what she was looking for, and pulled out one of his shirts and a dry pair of pants for him. She folded them on the counter, just to have another moment to compose herself, and turned around to hand them to him.

Daryl stood with the towel draped across his shoulders and their fingers brushed when she handed him the pile. "Thanks," he murmured.

Their hands lingered together until something outside the window caught his eye. She followed his gaze and saw that there was someone standing in the middle of the yard.

Carol tensed at first, assuming it was a walker, but when she heard Daryl mutter, "For Christ's sake…" under his breath and pull his hands away roughly, she gave the figure a closer look: small, thin, short hair sticking to her head…

It was Cheryl.

Daryl was already at the door but Carol held a hand up to stop him. "I'll get her," she said, moving past him.

It looked like he was going to protest, but he finally dropped his hand from the door knob and stepped back angrily. "Tell 'er she's a dumbass," he growled, and stormed off to the bedroom to change.

Carol took a deep breath before flinging herself out into the cold once again. She reached Cheryl in a matter of minutes and saw that the girl was staring up at the sky with her arms folded across her chest.

"Cheryl?" Carol called, but her voice was swallowed up by the howling wind. "_Cheryl?_" she tried, louder this time, but the younger girl didn't respond.

Carol reached out and touched Cheryl's shoulder gingerly and she looked up, confused, as if she had just woken up.

"What are you doing out here?" Cheryl shouted over the rain.

If it hadn't been so cold, Carol would have laughed. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

Cheryl looked back up to the sky and Carol could barely hear what she said next, "I thought I saw…well no, it's crazy of course, I know it couldn't have been…but for a second…" she trailed off, and Carol touched her shoulder again.

She squeezed her eyes shut. "God, you're going to think I've lost my mind."

Carol was starting to lose feeling in her feet and she was growing impatient. "Just tell me," she pleaded.

Cheryl opened her eyes, still fixed on the sky, and shrugged. "I thought I saw Bobby. I thought I saw him out here, smiling, waving, so I ran outside to see him." She turned back to Carol. "It wasn't him. Obviously. Don't know what it was. Just my imagination."

Carol sighed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Grief can play tricks on your mind. But you have to go back inside now, or you're going to catch your death."

Cheryl laughed then, startling Carol enough to make her jump. "It's ironic," the younger girl explained. "That's why I was avoiding you all day, so I wouldn't have to tell you."

"Tell me what?" Carol said, impatience overshadowed by confusion.

Though the rain made it impossible to know for sure, the red of Cheryl's face made Carol think she had started to cry. "I was going to tell you last night," she said, barely audible over the wind. "But you were with Daryl and I felt so awful because I had planned the whole damn night and then ruined everything."

Her hands were shaking as they covered her face. Carol moved forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing Cheryl to face her. "Cheryl, what were you going to tell me?"

Cheryl's hands dropped and she was clearly crying then. "I lied," she said simply.

Carol's brow furrowed. "What?"

"I knew he had been bitten."

Carol realized she was talking about Bobby and a lump formed in her throat. "That's okay," she said, rubbing Cheryl's arms. "You were in denial. It's completely understandable that you went along with his story."

Cheryl shook her head violently. "No, there was no story. He told me as soon as he got back that he was bit and he wanted me to kill him because he knew he was going to turn." She was shuddering, gasping for breath. "I got mad. I got so mad I threw away our guns and our knives. I took everything he could have used to do it himself because I didn't want him to go."

Carol's grip on Cheryl's shoulders tightened. "It's okay," she whispered frantically. "Cheryl, it's okay. I understand how hard it is to-"

"NO," Cheryl screamed, grabbing Carol's hands and throwing them from her shoulders. "No, Carol, that's not even it. That's not the worst part, and you're going to _hate_ me when I tell you."

"I won't hate you," Carol called over the rain. "I promise. I'll never hate you."

Cheryl ran her fingers through her soaked hair, clasping her head and squeezing her eyes shut tightly. "I gave up," she said. "We sat there for the longest time and then he passed out from the fever. And I realized that I couldn't do it. Bobby had taken care of us, he had been the one to keep us alive. I couldn't shoot, I couldn't hunt, and I couldn't do a damn thing to keep my baby safe. So I gave up."

The horror of realization blanketed Carol as she heard Cheryl's words. Cheryl finally opened her eyes and Carol saw the monumental amount of regret she held behind them.

"I wasn't driving to find medicine or something to help us. I was driving until I found a cliff or a river or something I could use to end it. I gave up, Carol. I was going to kill myself and I was going to kill my daughter because I didn't want her to live in a world like this."

There was a flash of lightning and a crack of thunder before Carol finally spoke again. "I don't hate you, Cheryl."

"Well, you should," Cheryl said simply. "Because you didn't opt out like I tried to. You had it so much worse, but you never did. If Bobby hadn't turned so quickly and made me crash the car, I would have driven us straight off a cliff. Your daughter was taken from you and I was going to kill mine." She bit her lip and turned away.

"It's not that I never thought about it," Carol said, reaching out to touch Cheryl's shoulder. She didn't brush it away. "But I had a lot of time to think. And I had the others. Things were different," she said sincerely. "God and I haven't exactly been on speaking terms since I lost Sophia, at least not like we were before." She cupped Cheryl's cheek and forced her to meet her gaze. "But I do think you crashed for a reason. Rick and Daryl were supposed to find you and bring you here to me."

She had meant to say 'to us,' but the word had slipped out naturally.

"You don't hate me?" Cheryl whispered hopefully.

"Are you planning on sticking around?"

"Yes."

"Then no," Carol said with a smile, and pulled Cheryl into her arms. The girl clung to her like a lifeline and Carol could feel her warm tears on her shoulder in striking contrast to the freezing rain that was still coming down relentlessly. She planted a kiss on Cheryl's head before she pulled away. "Now get your butt back in the house."

The guilt and regret that had been so clear in Cheryl's face seemed to have been washed away by the rain. She gave Carol one more quick squeeze before running back into the house as fast as her injured side would allow.

Thankful that she could finally get out of the rain, Carol turned in the opposite direction and sped back towards the RV. She was frozen stiff and dripping wet when she stepped into the kitchen and immediately grabbed the towel she had left on the table before tending to Cheryl. Drying herself as best she could, she glanced towards the small bedroom and found Daryl perched on the edge of the bed.

"Woulda been faster if I had gone," he said gruffly. "Thought you were gonna drown."

"She had something she had to tell me," Carol said quietly, running the towel over her arms.

"I noticed," he said, nodding towards the window. Carol felt a squirm in her stomach when she realized that he had never really let her out of his sight.

She reached into the basket and pulled out fresh clothes to change into. Carol longed for a pair of sweatpants, but settled for the softest pair of pants she had and a looser fitting top, which she used regularly as pajamas. Daryl didn't move from his place on the bed when she slipped into the small bathroom to change, so she was surprised when she opened the door again and found him standing at the threshold of the bedroom.

He was blocking her path so she could do nothing but stand there and feel the full weight of his eyes on her. It was enough to make her cheeks flush and her pulse race and she glanced around for some sort of escape route that would allow her to catch her breath. She stepped out of the tiny bathroom and tried to slip past him to the bed, but his arm shot out nimbly and barred her entrance.

Her breathing was almost audible now that he stood over her in the tiny hallway of the Winnebago and it mingled with his own soft breathing and the patter of rain on the roof. She turned to face him, back pressed to wall, and finally met his gaze. There was the softness in his eyes again, and she was suddenly filled with warmth that overpowered the frigid air completely.

She was so focused on his eyes that she didn't realize he had moved the hand that wasn't blocking the doorway until she felt calloused fingers on her cheek. He was watching her so intently, waiting for her to jump or push away or scream or deny him in some way. Carol knew without a shadow of doubt that if she made it clear in any way that this wasn't okay, he would let her go, even if it killed him.

But it was okay. It was _very _okay, and Carol simply couldn't imagine a future where it ever _wouldn't _be okay for Daryl Dixon to put his hands on her.

She tilted her cheek ever so slightly against his hand and let herself enjoy the heat that was radiating from his fingers. He licked his lips absentmindedly and slowly moved towards her, their eyes locked. His other hand came from the door frame to her shoulder slowly and he brought his lips to her forehead, placing a kiss there that made her eyes flutter closed and her heart beat wildly in her chest.

Carol could feel his breath on her lips and she knew he was only an inch away, if that, and she brought her lips up to meet his.

His lips were softer than she ever expected and the scruff around his mouth tickled her slightly. Her arms reached up to wrap around his waist and pull him closer, pressing her tightly between his body and the wall behind her. She was rusty, out of practice, but she clung to him and moved her lips against his, cherishing the feeling of having him pressed so closely to her.

He pulled away far too soon, his arms moving to wrap around her as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. There would be time later for teeth and tongue and roaming hands, but for now they simply held each other tightly and listened to the sound of the pattering rain and their own quiet breathing. Daryl was warm against her and she heard herself whisper, "No more running?"

It meant a lot of things. No more disappearing, no more isolation, no more leaving her to wonder and worry and long for his return. He lifted his head to stare into her eyes, their faces impossibly close, and he kissed her again. Daryl nipped at her bottom lip before pulling away, the smallest smirk forming on his face. "No more running," he promised.

She managed a small smile before exhaustion hit her like a ton of bricks, and she made to move out of his grasp. He dropped his arms and snatched up her hand before allowing her to lead him to the small bed, and she climbed in before pulling him down on top of her.

They wiggled and settled before finally finding a comfortable position, Daryl on his back with his arms around Carol, who was curled up with her head on his chest and her hand placed on his stomach. She was starting to drift off when she heard Cheryl's words in her head and jolted slightly.

Daryl tightened his grip on her protectively. "Somethin wrong?"

Carol sighed and buried her face into his chest. "Cheryl," she said quietly. "Something she said."

Daryl was silent as she continued. "She knew Bobby got bitten before he got in the car. She was going to drive off a cliff with Julie before she crashed and you and Rick found her."

He tensed up under her for a moment before relaxing again. "Well she didn't," he said gruffly. "And she's fine. She's got you now."

She smiled. "Yeah, she does. I've got her, too." She looked up at him. "And I've got you."

He planted a quick kiss on her forehead. "Damn straight."

She let out a giggle and settled down again, Daryl's slow breathing and the rain outside the RV more effective than any lullaby as she drifted off to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: This one was a bit tough to write because we're starting to get into the events of "Better Angels" and "Beside the Dying Fire," but I didn't want to give you a chapter full of direct dialogue from the show :x there's _some_ direct dialogue in here, so I'm just going to go ahead and make a mini disclaimer: those aren't my words. They are the beautiful words of the lovely and talented Evan Reilly and Glen Mazzara. Please don't sue me because I love you and I have nothing :|

I also want to let y'all know that I lied and there are most likely going to be _13 _chapters of this story total. Once again, thank you to everyone who's reading and reviewing/following this story. Hearing your feedback absolutely makes my day, and I love you all :] now here we go!

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><p><strong>Chapter 10<strong>

Daryl had to admit that it was one of the best nights of sleep he had had in a long time. Possibly the best one since the world had gone to hell. He could see that he had slept later than he was used to (but still ungodly early compared to everyone else) by the sun streaming orange through the window and lighting up the small room. Never one to linger long after waking up, he made to move before realizing that Carol was still at his side.

Well, tangled up in him would probably be a better way to describe it. She had managed to pull him even closer during the night, jumbling their legs together and draping her arm over his waist. She was warm and soft and impossibly fragile in his arms, and he abruptly realized that he had no idea what the hell he was doing.

He wanted this. He wanted _her_. It was something that had been building up between them for weeks, something he couldn't deny any more after all they'd been through. Something about the way Carol had been so willing to stand in the rain and freeze her ass off for Cheryl the night before had reassured him that he was making the right decision.

She was one of the few good things left in this world and he had to protect her.

Daryl realized that he'd probably never figure out what Carol saw in him, so he'd just have to thank his stars that she had decided to want him. But the problem was that he had no idea what _this_ was. What was he to her? The word _boyfriend_ sounded so embarrassingly awkward that he regretted even thinking it, but _lover _didn't sit quite right either. And how was this going to change things? He assumed she would ride with him if they ever left Hershel's farm in a caravan, maybe even tent with him. Hell, he was planning on crawling back into the RV bed tonight if she'd let him. It was far more comfortable than his bedding on the hard Earth and her company was preferred to whatever creatures wandered the forest at night.

Would she want to tell the group? It wasn't really necessary in his opinion; let them think whatever they want. He'd probably only need to make it clear if some unlucky son of a bitch tried to put the moves on her. Carol wouldn't expect public displays of affection, he assumed. Ed had never done anything of the sort. In fact, he was willing to bet that Ed never showed her _any _affection, public or otherwise.

At the thought, his grip on Carol tightened protectively. That was the worst part. She had already been through hell with the last man in her life and the thought of her going through that pain again tightened his gut. Daryl would never hurt her on purpose, of course. Not like Ed had. But he seemed to have been doing a good job of hurting her without trying when he went off into the woods and hid after Sophia's death. Dixons had tempers, they built walls, and they hurt people. That's what his father did, that's what Merle did, and he knew he had the capability to do it too.

But as he looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms, the affection he felt for her overpowered his fear of hurting her. Maybe it was selfish and stupid of him to want her when so many things could go wrong, but right now he didn't care. He had made her a promise last night and he fully intended to keep it. And maybe that made him just a little bit different than his father and Merle.

He was far too awake at this point to continue lying there, so he slowly untangled himself, his movements careful so as not to wake her, and slipped out of the bed. Daryl missed the warmth of the woman beside him immediately, but he had to hunt if the group wanted fresh meat. There was a bitter chill in the air and he paused before leaning down and carefully sliding the thin blanket up to Carol's chin. '_Better than nothin_' he thought briefly before turning and carefully tiptoeing out of the RV.

Shane was settled on the roof of the vehicle for watch duty and Daryl realized that they must have sent someone back out in the middle of the night after the rain finally stopped. He wasn't surprised when Shane caught his eye but made no gesture to say hello; they had never really gotten along and their argument in Hershel's dining room was still fresh in both their minds.

Daryl spent the next couple of hours in the woods, sloshing through the mud and the puddles that the storm had left behind. His tent had surprisingly withstood the rain and he was thankful to find his jacket bunched up under the nylon, warm and dry. But even with it tightly wrapped around him, the chill of quickly approaching winter seemed to cut through him like a knife. The forest was wet, cold, and frustratingly empty, but he pressed on until he barely had any feeling in his fingers. With a curse he finally gave in, resolving to raid one of the clothing stores in town for better winter clothes on their next scavenge, and headed back to the farm.

Most everyone was awake and working by the time he got back and he only had time to deposit his crossbow into his tent before Rick had found him.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked.

"Sure," Daryl responded, and the two headed to the porch of the farmhouse. As Rick unfolded a map before them, Daryl settled on the railing.

"It's time we took care of Randall. We've been puttin it off long enough, but it's gettin colder and Hershel's movin us in the house. Everyone's spending the day packing up camp and movin in, but we gotta take care of business. And I want you to come along with me."

Daryl nodded in agreement as Rick went on about driving Randall about an hour away and dumping him there. Same plan as before, just better execution.

"This whole pain in the ass'll be a distant memory. Good riddance." Daryl remarked as Rick folded up the map.

"Carol's puttin together some provisions for 'em…enough to last a few days," Rick mentioned, and Daryl couldn't help but stiffen at the sound of her name.

Maybe he should have gone to see her before he talked to Rick. Just to let her know that he was back and the empty bed he left her in wasn't a bad sign. No, he was being stupid. Rick needed him at the moment and Carol would have understood. Maybe he'd have a chance to see her before he and Rick took off…

They both looked up at the sound of a car coming down the gravel, Shane behind the wheel. Rick tensed beside him. "So you're good with all this?"

"I don't see you and I tradin haymakers on the side'a the road. Nobody'd win that fight," Daryl said with a shrug.

Shane stepped out of the car and began walking towards them. At the same time, Daryl spotted Carol exiting the house, probably after delivering the provisions Rick had mentioned.

"I'ma take a piss," he blurted out quickly, and left Rick and Shane alone to talk.

He followed behind Carol closely enough for her to know he was there, but not closely enough for them to talk, and was surprised when she veered left and headed towards his campsite. He followed behind her at a set pace until she crawled into his tent and he found himself pausing and staring at the nylon as if it might explain her behavior to him. Finally he sighed and crawled in after her.

The ground was soft and damp from the water that had seeped in from the surrounding area, but she lay flat on her back in his bedding, hands folded under her head, eyes closed. She was imitating him and it was funny, confusing, and irritating all at once.

He slowly crawled over top of her and while her eyes stayed closed, a corner of her mouth twitched slightly upwards.

"Trying to figure out why you stayed out here by yourself all this time," she said, as if he had voiced the question. "Even the floor of the RV is better than this."

He smirked. In the silence, she cracked one eye open. "I woke up and you were gone."

Daryl exhaled slowly. "Went huntin," he said. "I don't sleep too late these days."

Both of her eyes were open now and she moved her arms to reach up and toy with the collar of his shirt. "I figured. I wasn't surprised…just a bit disappointed. Would've been nice to wake up to you this morning." She dragged her gaze from his collar to his eyes and he briefly wondered if her talent for seduction was new or just something she had kept well hidden.

"We're movin in the house…" Daryl said, but trailed off when he realized he didn't know how to end his thought. Should they try to get a room together? Share floor space? Share a damn sleeping bag? He didn't know what the best option would be for him, for her, for the group in general; he just knew that he needed this woman as close to him as possible.

"Looks like we are," she whispered, and she lifted her fingers to his face, following every crease and line with a soft touch, as if she was trying to memorize it for future reference.

Her movement was so tender, so different from anything he was used to, that he shuddered slightly under her touch. Her fingers trailed down his cheek, ghosted over his neck, and came to rest over his pounding heart. She had paused for only a second before he came crashing down onto her.

She received him eagerly, hands running through his hair and holding his mouth to hers. He swiped at her lips with his tongue and she opened her mouth to allow access. One of her hands found the zipper of his jacket, yanking it down quickly and delicate fingers explored his chest and abs as he gripped her hips tightly. Moving from her mouth, he placed kisses down her jaw and attacked her neck, kissing, biting, and sucking as much skin as he could reach.

It wasn't until she lifted her hips and bucked against him, whether intentionally or without thought, that he froze and shifted his gaze back to her eyes. She was panting and her eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"What's wrong?" she asked, the huskiness in her voice not quite masking all of the concern.

He swallowed and sank his face into the crook of her neck to avoid her gaze. They were doing this on the cold, hard ground in a tiny tent in the middle of a yard. He was preparing to take a kid out to the middle of nowhere and leave him there to his certain death because the only other option was killing him. It was getting colder, more dangerous, and he had finally found something to cling to that could easily be taken away from him with one careless mistake.

Plenty of things were wrong.

"What is this?" he heard himself mumble into her neck. He didn't think she heard him at first, but she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Whatever you want," Carol said quietly. "We can keep it a secret or shout it from the rooftops. We can give it a title or keep it nameless. We can decide right now or figure it out as we go along. I don't care what this is. I just want you, as long as you'll have me."

Daryl looked up at her and could see a calm but serious look on her face. He felt heat creep into his cheeks as he mumbled, "I want'chu too."

A smile broke out on her face. "Good. What do you want to tell the others?"

He shrugged. "We don't need to tell em nothin. They're smart…prob'ly figure it out on their own when we ride together 'n bed near each other…"

Her cheeks tinged pink and she nodded in agreement. "And what should we call it?"

Daryl paused before finally saying, "We're together."

"Together?"

"Yeah. And you're mine."

"That also means you're mine, you know," she teased.

"Shoot," he said, a smile forming on his own lips. "Ain't like you got competition here anyway."

She blushed again and he leaned in to kiss her, long and slow. When they finally broke apart, she let out a sigh before opening her eyes.

"You have to go."

He bit his lip and nodded.

She smiled sadly. "I'll pack up your stuff, if you want. Move it into the house with my things…"

"I'd like that," he murmured.

She was quiet for a moment. "And you'll be careful while you're out with Rick?"

He hated seeing that look of fear on her face. "O'course," he said firmly. "It'll be fine."

She pressed a quick kiss to his jaw before he pulled away and lifted her to her feet. They left the tent and walked back across the yard, side by side now, to the blue truck that T-Dog and Rick were preparing to transport Randall. T-Dog looked between the two of them suspiciously as he handed Daryl a gun, but he only said, "You only got so many arrows," before walking towards the shack to collect Randall on Rick's orders.

Daryl turned over the gun in his hands and realized it had been Dale's. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he stuck the gun in his belt and grabbed his crossbow from the bed of the truck. Carol lifted her fingers and gave his free hand a tight squeeze before turning and heading back towards the house. He was still watching her make her way back when T-Dog starting yelling that Randall was gone.

A jolt went through Daryl's body as he threw down his crossbow again and made a beeline for the shack, Rick following closely behind him. They searched the room, but could only find Randall's handcuffs in the small pile of bedding they had left for him. Daryl cursed and stormed out the door, passing Andrea who had heard the commotion and joined the search. He glanced around the area, but found no sign of the boy they had been keeping prisoner.

The rest of the group was pouring out of the house, probably after seeing the four of them pacing around the shack in distress. Carol and Maggie were in the lead.

"What happened?" Maggie called.

"Randall's missing," Rick yelled back.

The yard exploded with sound as everyone spoke over each other, asking questions, expressing fear, or trying to form a plan. Daryl was about to tell them all to shut it, but Shane came storming out of the woods at that moment with a bloody nose, screaming angrily for Rick.

When Shane reached them, he started spewing a story of Randall jumping him and taking his gun. Daryl smelled bullshit immediately; there was no way that a scrawny thing like Randall could take down a man of Shane's size, but he remained silent. No matter how it happened, Randall was loose on the property and something had to be done about it. He glanced over to Carol as he went to retrieve his crossbow and saw that Cheryl and Julie had caught up to her. The three were clinging together and practically shaking, and Daryl had to focus his attention back to Rick to keep from running to them and taking Carol in his arms again.

"Don't go out there," Carol pleaded to Rick, Shane, Glenn, and Daryl as T-Dog and Hershel tried to usher everyone back inside. "Y'all don't know what could happen!"

But her protests were ignored as the four armed men marched off towards the woods. Daryl risked one last glance back at Carol to find her staring back, panic clear in her eyes. Before Andrea turned her around, he gave a reassuring nod that he hoped would say everything he couldn't tell her.

_Everything's fine._

_It'll all be fine._


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: So sorry to keep you lovely people waiting, but this past week has been absolutely bananas. It was mostly the good kind of bananas, though: I got a new job that I'm absolutely thrilled about and I got to spend a lot of time with my friends, which is always nice. There was the ickiness that was writing my final essay for Sociology, but it was such a relief when I finally finished.

Anyway, here's a new chapter for y'all. I'm sending all my hopes, dreams, and love to all the people that follow this story and review it so loyally. I wish you could understand how amazing y'all are. I'm hoping this chapter doesn't seem super rushed, but I was trying to convey that frantic urgency everyone had in "Beside the Dying Fire." Once again, some of the dialogue in this chapter doesn't belong to me, but a good majority of it does! I'd also like to mention that I hate myself because I whipped up a quirky little Julie-centric one shot this evening, but it doesn't feel right to post it until I finish this story! What's wrong with me? :| but enough about that, on with the fic!**  
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><p><strong>Chapter 11<strong>

Carol knew she was pacing a hole in the floor, but she couldn't seem to keep still. The tick of the clock had never seemed as loud as it had been in the last hour of Daryl's absence and she was seconds away from smashing the face of the clock with the first blunt object she could get her hands on.

"Carol," she heard a pleading whisper from against the wall and saw Cheryl in a slight squat, holding Julie to her waist. "Please stop pacing. You're making us dizzy."

She stopped abruptly. "Sorry," she muttered.

Cheryl shrugged. "It's understandable. But they'll be fine."

"Yeah," Julie piped up, louder than her mother had been. "Don't be sad, Carol."

Carol couldn't help but smile. Cheryl planted a kiss on the back of Julie's head. "That's right, boog," she said. "Our boys are tough."

Carol let out a sigh. "We say that so often, but they're just as vulnerable as all of us are."

Cheryl cocked her head to the side in confusion and Carol continued. "Rick's the leader, so he's untouchable. Glenn's our "go to town expert" and he's always been okay. Shane is cocky, but he's tough and a force to be reckoned with. Daryl…well, he's _Daryl_. I think we all just assume he's going to be okay because he always has been. But we're all human. One lapse of judgment, one tiny mistake, and they could all-"

"Stop," Cheryl said firmly. "You can't do this to yourself. Yes, they're in danger, _all _of us are. But there's absolutely nothing we can do to help them now, so you just have to wait. And you can't go crazy worrying because there's no point."

Carol's hands shook as she gripped the cross around her neck tightly. "I have to worry about him," she whispered. "Especially now that…"

She trailed off, but Cheryl gave a small, knowing smile.

"Well that's the best news I've heard all day," she said. "Now he has even more of a reason to come back safe and sound."

The house was freezing and they had all donned their coats, Cheryl borrowing one of Maggie's and Julie swimming in one of Hershel's old flannels. But when there was a creaking on the back porch, the shiver that went down Carol's spine had little to do with the chill.

Cheryl's head snapped towards the back door as well, but before either of them could get out a word of warning, Daryl and Glenn came charging in. Carol let out an audible sigh of relief, but Daryl didn't look her in the eye until he had assessed what was going on in the living room. It was only after he had gathered his bearings that she felt his fingers graze the small of her back in a comforting gesture.

Even then, he kept his eyes on the rest of the group. "Rick and Shane ain't back yet? We heard a shot." He seemed tense and slightly confused and Carol could almost see the cogs of his brain trying to work through whatever problem he had encountered in the woods.

The stress and fear that had fallen off her shoulders immediately returned when Daryl told them that they had found Randall in the woods, turned walker with only a broken neck to explain his death. "Thing is," he continued, "Shane and Randall's tracks were right on top of each other. And Shane ain't no tracker, so he didn't come up behind em…they were together."

Carol glanced around the room and saw that everyone was as nervous and confused as she was. Lori finally stepped forward towards Daryl.

"Would you please get back out there and find Rick and Shane and find out what on Earth is going on?" she whispered frantically.

Daryl nodded solemnly. "You got it."

Carol almost cried out when he started to move away from her. She had just spent the last hour pacing the floor with worry for him, and now Lori was sending him off again? Her hand reached out and snatched his wrist and he turned back to her in surprise.

"Don't go back out there," she said in a hushed voice. "Please, for my sake."

Daryl glanced around the room and Carol saw that Cheryl's eyes were locked on them intently. It was only when Daryl shot her a glare that the young mother became preoccupied with the cracks in the ceiling.

"I'm doin this for you," he growled. "And this group. I'm keepin you safe."

"You can't keep me safe if you get yourself killed," she snapped back. She hated herself for whining like this, but she had to keep him close to her. "Rick's a grown man with a gun, he can take care of himself."

Daryl squeezed his eyes shut tightly before opening them and staring her down with a fiery intensity. "You gotta make a plan an' stick to it," he said slowly. "Plen'y a time to worry when you're done. And gettin killed ain't part'a the plan."

She had no idea what he was talking about, but she knew there would be no convincing him to stay. With a glance she saw that Cheryl was still staring at the ceiling and everyone else was making their way to the porch, so she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward, planting a hard kiss on his lips.

There was a small giggle from the wall and they broke apart to see Julie peering at them through parted fingers. Cheryl was still staring up at the ceiling, but the grin was clear on her face.

Daryl shot Carol a smirk before finally heading towards the door, but he was only halfway there when Andrea called for him. He ran out the door and Carol blindly followed him, only to be met by a sight that seemed to freeze the blood in her veins:

Walkers.

_Hundreds _of them.

It was then Daryl spoke the words she was sure they were all thinking, "A heard that size'll rip the house down…"

Lori tore out of the house at that moment, followed by Cheryl who was still carrying Julie. "Carl's gone!" she cried.

All the resentment Carol had felt towards the woman for sending Daryl back on the search for Rick melted away when she saw the look of sheer panic on Lori's face. "I'm not leaving without my boy!" she shouted, and Cheryl and Carol exchanged looks of understanding.

"We're not, we're gonna- we're gonna look again, and we're gonna find him," Carol tried to keep her voice calm and steady, but she was starting to panic as well.

"I'll help," Cheryl piped up, and they returned to the living room. The three women split up, Lori running out to the shed, Carol checking the cellar and the attic, and Cheryl searching the main floor of the house again.

When they met back on the porch a few minutes later, the rest of the group was gone. Carol felt a pang in her chest at Daryl's absence, but she was determined to stay focused.

"He's not in the shed," Lori panted. "Was he in the house?" she asked Cheryl, who shook her head worriedly.

"He's not in the cellar or the attic," Carol added. Lori looked like she was about to cry when a small voice called out over the sound of Hershel's shotgun.

"I know where Carl went."

Their heads all snapped to Julie, who Cheryl was still holding tightly to her chest.

"Jules," Cheryl gasped out. "This is very serious. Do you really know where Carl went?"

Julie nodded and Lori leaned down close to her, failing at her attempt to keep her voice steady. "Julie, where did Carl go?"

Julie looked nervous. "He told me not to tell."

"Baby, you have to tell us," Cheryl said, tilting Julie's chin up to meet her eyes. "Carl is in trouble and we need to find him."

The toddler paused for a second before finally whispering, "He went to go find his daddy."

Lori shot up and walked towards the rail, pointing out to the distance. "If he followed his daddy, he went that way!"

Carol followed Lori's finger and saw that the area she was pointing to was crawling with walkers; if they headed that way, it would pull them deeper onto the land.

"No, _no_, we'll lead them right to him!" Carol shouted over Lori's frantic muttering. "We can't stay here!"

Lori finally turned to her. "_But that's my boy_!" she cried out.

It was then Carol realized what Daryl had been talking about: stick to the plan. They couldn't let fear or worry get in their way. Right now, they had to focus on getting off of the farm safely. She scrolled down the list in her mind and saw what she had to do.

"You're gonna have to trust. If we find him, he's gonna need his mother, we have to go!"

_Get the girls, head for the cars, get off the farm, don't get bit. Get the girls, head for the cars, get off the farm, don't get bit_. She repeated the list in her mind as she let go of Lori and ran into the house to get Patricia and Beth.

When Hershel refused to follow them, they ran down the porch steps, Carol in the lead, Cheryl and Julie behind her, then Lori, then Beth and Patricia in the rear. All she could hear was gunshots and Cheryl's frantic muttering to Julie, "Hold on tight, don't look, everything will be fine." She didn't dare look back, even when screams pierced the night air; she didn't want to know who had been lost.

The fault in her plan of running as fast and far away as possible came in the form of the shed blocking her path to safety. She turned and found with a jolt that Lori, Beth, and Patricia were nowhere to be seen and Cheryl and Julie were separated from her by a thick wall of walkers. She yelled at them to turn around, go back, find Lori, and Cheryl only hesitated for a second before turning and running back the way they came. Frantic, Carol picked up the only weapon she could find: a large board that was lying on the ground.

_Hit the walkers, head for the cars, get off the farm, don't get bit._

She was just about to start swinging when the walkers closest to her dropped to the ground with bullets in their heads. Andrea had come to save her, but Carol only had a split second of relief before she saw a walker only feet away from the younger woman.

"LOOK OUT!" she screamed, and Andrea turned. Carol couldn't tell what happened next; she heard the gun fire, but the corpse fell forward and took Andrea to the ground with it. Carol wanted to cry out, but she knew she had to stick to the plan.

_Head for the cars, get off the farm, don't get bit._

But where _were_ the cars?

She ran forward blindly just in time to see Cheryl pull herself and Julie into the bed of the blue truck. Walkers clawed at them from all sides, but Cheryl lay over top the toddler as the truck sped away, keeping her safe from harm. Carol's sides ached and her throat was dry, but she kept running in the direction that the truck had sped off, only narrowly avoiding reaching hands and hungry mouths.

Her legs were on fire when she finally slowed down, but she couldn't stop moving. In a last desperate attempt, she put all the voice she had left into one final cry for help. The walkers were quickly gaining on her, getting closer with every swipe, and her plan scrambled and reformed in her head:

_Stay alive. Stay alive. Stay alive._

But that was so much easier said than done.

Carol thought she was imagining the roar of the motorcycle when she heard it growing louder; just one final delusion of hope before dying a horrifically gruesome death. But when Daryl finally pulled into view, she knew that no vision she could ever conjure up could even begin to properly convey the beauty and strength, the perfections and faults, of the man who had come to save her.

"Come on, I ain't got all day!"

She used every last bit of strength she had to climb onto the back of the motorcycle and cling to him for dear life as he sped down the road, away from the walkers, and closer to safety.

It wasn't until she had her face pressed against his back that she allowed the tears to spill freely down her face. They were tears of mourning for the home and the family they had lost, but she was almost ashamed at how they were also tears of relief. He was safe and they were together, and that's all she could ask for.

Daryl couldn't risk taking a hand off the handlebar to comfort her, but she knew he felt her tears when he eased back into her slightly, relaxing some of the muscles in his back. She gave his midsection a slight squeeze in return and planted a small kiss between his shoulder blades.

It didn't matter where they went after this; as long as she got to keep him, she'd go willingly.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Geez, my three months of unemployment certainly had me spoiled. Definitely not used to balancing work, school, and writing quite yet. Hope none of y'all have forgotten about me or my little story!**  
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Unfortunately, we're coming to the end of this tale and the next chapter I post will be the last in this story. I can't begin to tell you how much your reviews and subscriptions mean to me. This next one is a little intense, so let's get right down to it. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 12<strong>

It was a miracle they had all found each other. It was difficult to have any significant thoughts on the back of a motorcycle, much less the terrible odds of meeting up with the others. Carol figured it had something to do with the roaring wind in her ears and the warm metal rumbling beneath her and she realized that it was probably why Daryl loved the bike so much: it was a way for him to tune out the world for a little while.

The wind and the engine didn't manage to block out the warmth in her heart when she realized that, in a way, Daryl was sharing a special place with her by letting her ride with him. Of course there had been walkers chasing her when he picked her up, but she'd like to think that she would have taken this trip eventually, regardless of life and death situations.

She didn't realize exactly how hopeless she had been until Glenn's taillights appeared in front of them, weaving from one lane to the other. Carol felt like her heart was about to burst and she squeezed Daryl around the waist so tightly that he let out a growl that made her ease up immediately. Still, when she peeked around the back of his head to get a better view of the car, she could have sworn she saw a relieved smile on the man's face.

It hadn't taken long to find the others once Daryl and she had managed to flag Glenn down. They had all been drawn to the spot where they had lost Sophia, guided by the simple fact that it was the only place they all knew besides the farm. The reunion had been bittersweet, of course: any loss among their group was a tragedy enough, but four to consider all at once?

"She saved me and then I lost her…" Carol had admitted when Glenn asked about Andrea, throat tightening significantly. When T-Dog confirmed that he had seen her go down, she almost cried for the younger girl. The only thing that stopped her was Daryl volunteering to go back; she was simultaneously filled with pride that he felt close enough to the group to continue to risk his life for its members, and rage that he would even consider leaving her again.

Rick had stopped him before she had a chance to say anything, and hearing his words made her hate herself for being so selfish, even for a moment.

It had been hours since then, and the world seemed to have been turned upside down multiple times since the intimate moment she had shared with Daryl in his tent the previous afternoon.

Carol stood next to Daryl's bike in the biting air, trying to make sense of the confession that had just come out of Rick's mouth: _"We're all infected."_

She had trusted Rick, they all had. The discovery that he had been keeping something that monumental from the group he had sworn to protect seemed to knock the air out of her lungs. The deepest corner or her mind entertained the idea that she was directing all her anger towards Rick to distract her from the crippling fear she was facing: the sickness, virus, whatever it was that had caused so many deaths, so much destruction, was running through her very veins.

Carol glanced up and saw the group, the people she had grown to think of as family, busying themselves around her. She knew that Rick and Lori had gone off somewhere by themselves and a slight turn of Carol's head revealed that Glenn and Maggie were digging through the backseat of the cars to see if there were any supplies that had been left in the vehicles. Hershel and Beth had found T-Dog and the two men were speaking in hushed tones while Beth stood by, clutching her father's shoulder for support. Then there was Cheryl, pale as a sheet and eyes wide as dinner plates, isolated from the rest of the group save for Julie, who she was clutching tightly to her chest. The young mother's lips were moving quickly in the toddler's ear and Carol realized she was singing, whether to calm herself or her daughter, she didn't know.

Running was pointless. They would all be overcome eventually, even without bites or scratches to assist their turning into flesh-eating monsters. The pain that came with that simple realization was almost physical and Carol's hand leapt to her heart as if her clawing could soothe the agony she felt.

Daryl entered her line of sight, but it wasn't until he called her name softly that she was able to comprehend his presence before her. He was so close to her, hand hovering just below her elbow, and she was so desperately cold that she was tempted to yank him close and drink in every ounce of warmth he could offer her.

"You okay?" he mumbled and she could see his eyes flickering down her body, as if judging her stability.

She almost let out a bitter laugh at his implication that being "okay" was even an option at this point, but she refrained. "No," she said softly. "I suppose I'm not."

It was frustrating how calm he was, given their situation. She had been witness to more of his lashing-outs than she cared to recall, most of them within the first couple weeks she had known him. They had died down significantly once Merle was lost, but there had still been a good few after they discovered Sophia in the barn. The bond between Daryl and Rick had been strengthening significantly as of late and she was actually surprised he hadn't been more vocal about Rick's betrayal.

Despite her expectations, Daryl's face remained calm and thoughtful as he glanced around at the group. "Yeah, guess none of us are doin so hot."

Carol felt her throat tighten and her fingers reached forward to grasp at the fabric of the jacket that covered his chest. "What are we gonna do?"

His feet shifted and he let out a small sigh. "Same as we been doin. Rest up here a bit, see what Rick thinks our next best move is. Go from there."

"You're still gonna follow him?" Carol breathed incredulously. "After he _kept_ that from us?"

"It don't change nothin," he said, eyebrows furrowing. "We'd always been careful not to die before."

He had a point. They had always kept themselves as safe and healthy as they possibly could even before they knew that they would turn regardless of cause of death, and she supposed that the virus could only take over their living bodies if it went through some sort of mutation in the future. Still, it was the principal of the matter: Rick had vital information and he kept it from them. It was a betrayal of trust strong enough to make Carol wonder what other secrets he was capable of hiding.

Nothing left to say that wouldn't lead them arguing in circles, she bit her tongue. The silence between them was stiff and heavy, so unlike the comfortable quiet they were used to falling into around each other, and she could tell it made him uncomfortable.

As if to confirm her suspicion, he cleared his throat and took a step back. "Gonna go see about roundin us up some dinner."

"Be careful," she responded automatically for what seemed like the thousandth time in the last twenty four hours. Carol knew it wouldn't guarantee his safety in the slightest, but she figured it would be less problematic than the "I love you" that threatened to spill past her lips every time they parted ways.

Maybe one day she would say it. But not now.

"I won't go far," he assured her before turning and heading towards the woods. He stopped after a few feet and turned back to her. He bit his lip and the internal struggle was clear on his face before he finally said, "Sorry for wantin to go back. For Andrea, I mean."

Carol was caught off guard by the apology, but only allowed her eyes to widen momentarily before she smiled softly. "No you're not. And that's okay. I don't want you to be sorry."

It was true; the thought of Daryl putting himself in any sort of danger made her stomach churn, but his bravery and loyalty were some of his best qualities. She couldn't fault him for that. He would do the same thing for any member of the group if there was any chance they were alive.

Andrea's face flashed before Carol's eyes briefly and she had to shake her head slightly to clear her thoughts. When she looked back up at Daryl, he gave her a small twist of his lips before jerking his head towards Cheryl.

"Better check your girl. She ain't lookin so good."

Carol nodded, thankful for any task to distract her from thinking about the good friend she had lost. Daryl turned back towards the woods as she made a beeline for Cheryl.

The young mother was just as unsteady as Carol had seen before. Carol had found out from Lori that Cheryl spent a good portion of the drive from the farm in the bed of the truck because none of them had realized she was there. It was clear that the ride had shaken her greatly and her pale form was still clutching Julie to her chest in an iron grip.

"Cheryl?" Carol called softly when she was a few yards away from her.

Cheryl didn't look up at the sound of her name and continued to whisper hastily in Julie's ear. Carol continued the walk forward when she noticed a frayed edge on the old shirt that Julie was wrapped in. She squinted and realized that one of the sleeves had been torn off.

Fear bubbled in the pit of Carol's stomach but she forced it down. "_It's nothing_," she thought. "_It was probably ripped in all the commotion._" Regardless, she quickened her pace in Cheryl's direction. She was almost there when her eyes were drawn to the movement of a single red droplet falling through the air and hitting the pavement with a splash.

Blood.

A single drop of blood fell from Cheryl's elbow as she tried to sing her daughter to sleep.

"_No. No no no no no no no no no._"

It wasn't until the young girl's eyes flashed towards her knowingly that Carol realized she had spoken her lament out loud. In a flash she was by Cheryl's side, and the mother looked up at her with sad, fearful eyes.

"I just can't seem to stop keeping secrets from you," she whispered as she finally pulled Julie away from her torso and placed her on her feet on the cold ground. Julie protested with a whine and raised her arms upwards towards her mother, but Cheryl kept her eyes on Carol.

The jacket Cheryl had borrowed from Maggie was dark brown and Carol hadn't been able to see the blood soaking through the fabric until she was standing right next to Cheryl. Slowly, the young girl pulled off the jacket to reveal her blood-soaked arm, the sleeve of Hershel's shirt tied just below her shoulder. The sight and smell of it made Carol nauseous, but it was nothing compared to the feeling that hit her when Cheryl moved the bandage and revealed a perfect oval of teeth marks embedded into her arm.

It was if Carol's lungs had stopped working.

She tried to breathe in, tried to inhale enough oxygen to process what was happening, but it was impossible.

Cheryl stepped forward and immediately faltered on her shaky feet, falling with a crash to the pavement. Julie shrieked and ran for her mother, collapsing by Cheryl's side when the woman had managed to roll on her back to face the sky. Carol dropped to her knees next to her and pulled Cheryl's head into her lap, only vaguely aware of the rest of the group around them.

"What happened?"

"Oh my God, look at all the blood…"

"IT'S A BITE!"

Frantic shouts and shrieks flooded the air around them, but Carol couldn't speak as she stroked Cheryl's hair and listened to the girl breathe out a shaky story.

"I just wasn't fast enough, I guess. I mean with my ribs still messed up and everything, I barely got Julie and me to the truck. But I was climbing in and one took a bite out of me, and all I could think of was covering Julie and keeping her safe even if I was going to die anyway."

A tear splashed on Cheryl's face and Carol realized she was crying. It was hard to believe that she had any tears left in her after years of abuse and losing Sophia, but here they were, spilling out over a dying girl she had grown to love.

The group was standing around them now, some further back than others, as Cheryl reached up a shaky hand to wipe a tear from Carol's face.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you," she whispered. "I'm sorry I didn't jump out of the truck and leave myself for the walkers. But I had to spend the end of it with my little girl in my arms. I couldn't just leave her. I'm-"

"Shhh, it's alright," Carol hushed her, voice cracking as the tears continued down her face.

Carl was at Julie's side, attempting to pull her back from the scene, but the toddler wiggled out of his grip and leaned down towards her mother's face.

"Mama?" she said, fear clear in her voice.

Cheryl smiled sadly. "Hi baby girl. It's almost time for me to go."

Tears started rolling down Julie's cheeks. "I don't want you to go."

Cheryl choked and reached up to pull Julie close to her. "I don't wanna go either, boog. But remember what I said? I have to go be with daddy now and you have to stay here with everyone else."

"I'll go with you," Julie cried, wrapping her arms around Cheryl's neck and burying her face into her shoulder.

"You can't, Jules. You have to be brave and stay here. And mommy and daddy are gonna watch over you, always."

"Promise?" Julie sniffled.

Cheryl planted a kiss on the toddler's forehead. "Cross my heart. Mama loves you, Julie, more than absolutely anything. Never forget that, okay?"

Julie continued to cry into her mother's shoulder until Carl came and picked her up, carrying her out of the circle. Full-fledged sobs were racking through Carol's body and she felt a familiar, calloused hand grip her shoulder tightly.

Cheryl looked up at them with watery eyes. "Please take care of her," she whispered desperately. "Keep her safe. Please. I know I have no right to ask you, but…"

The words were caught in Carol's throat and she was thankful when she heard Daryl's somber, "O' course," from above her.

Cheryl smiled weakly, a glimpse of her former self shining through in her final moments. "Thank you. Thank you for everything."

Carol could only give her a watery smile in return. Rick's boots came into view and she looked up to see the man they belonged to towering over her.

"Carol," he said in a strained tone. "It's time to…well, we have to…" he trailed off, but his hand moved slowly to the gun on his hip.

Rick was planning to kill the girl that Carol had grown to love like a daughter and he had absolutely no right. He had never heard her story, never listened to her cry, never seen her face light up, never seen her make his own son laugh like there wasn't a care in the world, and now he was taking it upon himself to put her out of her misery. Anger flared through Carol and she shoved Rick's knees to send him stumbling backwards. "Don't touch her!" she shrieked hysterically. "Don't you even _think _about it!"

Daryl's grip on her shoulder tightened but he said nothing when Rick looked down at Carol, a mixture of surprise and pity on his face.

"Carol," Cheryl cried in a strained voice. "You have to do it. Do it now. I don't want to turn into one of those things. I don't want to hurt any of you…"

She trailed off and Rick nodded solemnly. Carol was about to spring up against him once more when he pulled the gun off his belt, but he handed the weapon quietly to Daryl. Her throat went dry when she saw Daryl turn the safety off, but instead of pointing and aiming, he held out the gun for Carol to take.

His face was unreadable when she took the weapon from him and her hand shook as she tried to get a grip on it. The metal was cool and heavy under her fingers and it seemed so foreign and dangerous to her. She would have much preferred a bow like Daryl's at that moment, something less loud and more graceful to end the life of the young woman who was sprawled on the pavement in front of her.

She looked down at Cheryl who gave her a small nod as she moved her head off of Carol's lap and placed it on the cold ground. The forest was silent as Carol stared down at the girl one last time, but she was sure that everyone could hear the deafening sound of her heart beating wildly in her chest. She leaned down and placed one last kiss on Cheryl's forehead. "I'm sorry," was all she managed to whisper.

Carol had never mastered shooting, but her target was so close that she was impossible to miss. Still, her hands shook so badly that Daryl kneeled behind her, reaching his hand to skim down her arm and rest lightly over hers.

One last sad smile twisted Cheryl's lips before the gunshot rang out. Then all was silent.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Well, here we are folks: the final chapter. I'd just like to take this opportunity to thank y'all from the bottom of my heart. I never expected such a great response to this story and I'm absolutely honored that all of you have stuck with me until the end. Over 100 reviews? Do you guys even realize how amazing y'all are? Seriously, this has been an absolute blast. I'm sad to see this story go, but it definitely won't be my last TWD fic. Thank you for everything. Thank you, thank you, thank you :]**  
><strong>

And may I proudly present the conclusion of If Only. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13<strong>

Daryl had been relieved of his official watch duty over an hour ago, but he continued to conduct his own beside the small fire they had built off the side of the road. At least it seemed like over an hour ago; it was hard to tell time in a world without watches and clocks, so he really had no idea how long he had been staring at Carol's figure, curled up into the fetal position a good distance away from everyone else. Rick had told him to try and get some sleep, but Daryl knew that would be a difficult task for _everyone_ at this point.

Carol hadn't spoken after she pulled the trigger that had ended Cheryl's life. Not when Daryl and Rick had carried the girl's body to the side of the road and covered her with leaves, not when they had all gathered back together on the highway, not even when Julie's tears had brought Carl to his own and the two children sat, howling on the pavement. As Lori tried to calm them down, he had gone to her, reaching out and catching her arm in a gentle grip. The blank, unfeeling look she responded with was like a slap in the face the way it made his heart sink, and he had released his grip and allowed her to slink off to the side of the road, away from the rest of them.

It was that silence that had made him jump when she finally spoke to him in hushed tones that night about running off and burdens and men of honor. Daryl had shut her down, of course, defending Rick's honor before the man it belonged to made a speech that was more than a little unsettling.

This group was still broken after all.

But even if the group fell into a million little pieces, he'd be damned if he'd let Carol do the same.

He could have guessed she wasn't sleeping, but she confirmed it when she quietly asked, "What are you doing?"

Daryl remembered a night that seemed like years ago, when he turned a corner and found her wrinkling her nose up at his necklace of walker ears. "Keepin an eye on you."

Carol let out a strangled little huff that he assumed was supposed to be a laugh. It was a good minute before she lifted her head to glance behind her. "What for?"

"Makin sure you don't do somethin stupid."

She narrowed her eyes. "So now I'm back to being crazy? Being a burden, keeping you up at night?"

"_You ain't crazy_," he hissed, more harshly than he intended. She flinched slightly and he softened his tone. "And you ain't a burden. But all this talk about leavin…it ain't right."

She rolled on her other side to face him and the fire illuminated her features. She looked so much weaker, more hollow, than the last time he saw the glow of a fire light her up.

"Why not?" she asked in a hushed whisper. "We don't need them. We could make it on our own."

He narrowed his eyes. "You really gonna leave Cheryl's little girl behind?"

Carol stiffened at the name and he realized no one in the camp had uttered it since the girl's passing.

"She's got Lori. And Carl, too," she said after a pause.

Daryl let out a scoff. "That woman can't keep track'a the kid she's got. And with that other one on the way, ain't no way she'll be able to keep an eye on 'er. And the boy might act tough, but you saw 'em today, cryin everywhere…"

Carol drew her bottom lip between her teeth and glanced away and he knew he had her beat. She couldn't argue with that logic, couldn't justify leaving Julie behind after they had promised Cheryl they would keep her safe.

There was an unexpected pang in his chest when he remembered the girl, lying bloody and broken on the pavement in front of them. Had it really been less than a week since they pulled her out of that car? She had embedded herself in the group so deeply in such a short amount of time that her absence seemed to leave just as large a hole as Shane, Andrea, Jimmy, and Patricia's.

She was a good girl. He didn't know her like Carol did, but he knew that much. Pretty voice, nice smile, broken heart with good intentions. She didn't know him either, but she trusted him because Carol trusted him. Maybe she could have learned to trust him for herself if things had turned out differently. He doubted she would have ever figured him out quite like Carol, but at least they could have understood each other a little better. But they'd never get the chance now, and if that fact made Daryl's chest pang, he knew it was destroying Carol.

"We could take her with us," she suggested in a small voice, finally snapping him out of his thoughts.

He dug the butt of his palms into his eyes in frustration. "_Christ_, I said we ain't goin nowhere! And if ya try'ta to leave, I'll haul your ass back to camp myself!"

She shot up, moving into a sitting position on the hard Earth. Her face was set and determined. "But Rick-"

"_You ain't mad at Rick_," he whispered fiercely, leaning forward to lessen the gap between them. "If things had been different, if we had all made it out, no one'd give two shits about him keepin that from us."

She froze as if she had been slapped in the face, her eyes wide as her cheeks drained of color. He could tell it was slowly donning on her what he had been trying to get across all day: everyone's anger at Rick was nothing but the emotion that came with losing their home and their friends. They just wanted someone to blame for their sorrow and Rick, their leader with his secrets, had been the perfect candidate.

They sat staring at each other for a long moment before Carol finally spoke again. "Would you have done the same thing?" she whispered, voice shaking. It wasn't accusatory, just curious. "Would you have kept that from us?"

He shifted uncomfortably under the weight of her gaze before shrugging. "Dunno. Maybe. Jenner was a whack job. No reason t'trust 'im without proof. I ain't sayin it was right, just that I understand why he did it."

Carol's eyes were brimming with tears and before he could react, she launched herself into his arms. They almost tumbled backwards into the dirt, but he shot one arm behind himself to steady them while the other found her waist to anchor her body to his. Her arms were wrapped around his neck in an iron grip and she had her face buried into his shoulder, dampening his skin with hot tears.

"It's my fault," she cried into him. "I led Cheryl the wrong way. I left Andrea behind. I didn't watch them close enough and they died and it's my fault."

She was shaking hard and he shifted them until he could sit up and wrap his other arm across her back. "It ain't your fault that-"

"_You're wrong_," she interrupted, pulling back enough to look him in the eye. "It is. And I can't face Rick and the rest of them, not after what I did. Everyone's always done their best to keep me safe and I can't even do the same for them. _That's _why I have to leave. Because it's all my fault."

Daryl had always chosen action over words, but he couldn't run from this and he'd never stoop as low as to scream obscenities at her again. As difficult as it was for him to force the words out, he decided to be honest with her.

"Just as much my fault as yours."

She had already let out a scoff before she realized how serious he was. Her voice softened. "How do you figure?"

He shifted his gaze away from her and shrugged, moving her arms along with his shoulders. "I was the first one't get out. I was waitin for everyone, just sittin there watchin the barn burn…" he trailed off, trying to remember what exactly he had been doing out there while the farm went to hell. Why hadn't he tried to find anyone? Find _her_? He had been running low on ammo, but it wouldn't have been the first time he had done something reckless.

"You found me," she whispered, as if she had read his mind. "I'd be dead if you hadn't come back."

He looked back at her and studied her face, remembering the sheer terror that had all but frozen his body when he heard her scream echoing through the night. "Coulda got ya sooner. I coulda driven around more and looked for Andrea and everyone else, but I didn't. I got us the hell outta there."

One of Carol's arms moved from around his neck and she touched his cheek gingerly. "It's not your fault."

"Then it ain't yours, neither," he mumbled back, leaning gently into her touch. "You can blame anybody if you try hard enough. It's no one's fault."

She dropped her hand and nodded slowly, fresh tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "Okay," she whispered. "It wasn't my fault."

"And it wasn't mine. Or Rick's."

In spite of her watery eyes, she smiled slightly. "I can't believe I shoved him like that. I don't think he'll be too happy with me in the morning."

Daryl glanced over to where Rick was standing on the road, keeping watch over the camp. He knew the other man was most likely too far away to hear them, but he kept his voice low all the same. "He knows you're upset. Hell, he'll probably be apologizin for that speech tomorrow anyway. An' God knows Glenn and Maggie won't leave-"

"So you think it'll blow over?" she finished.

"We're all we got. People'll remember that soon enough."

Carol laid her head on his shoulder again and he held her tightly. It was her silent agreement to stay and the immense relief he felt shed a new light on her 'no more running' plea. They weren't going to fall apart again, not like they had after Sophia's death; there was too much at stake now.

It hit him abruptly and he realized he should be the one to tell her before she found out on her own. "Glenn found the photo album in one'a the cars," he said slowly.

She looked up at him again. "…Cheryl's?" she asked, voice strained. When he nodded, she smiled sadly. "Crazy girl. She was supposed to be looking for Carl."

He thought back to all the supplies and possessions that had been lost the night before and almost cursed that Cheryl, or anyone else for that matter, hadn't thought to grab something more useful. But he supposed that, when it came down to it, she was still just a teenage girl.

"Can we keep it?" she asked hopefully, bringing him out of his thoughts. "I suppose it's rightfully Julie's. I can keep it safe until she's older."

"O'course," he said. He was going to tell her that it'd be pointless to throw it away at this point, but he kept his mouth shut when she pressed a kiss to his neck.

She smiled up at him and he leaned down to close the gap between them for the first time since the moment they shared in Hershel's living room. It wasn't until Carol pulled away that he realized the giggle he heard wasn't just a part of his memory.

There she was, blond hair and blue eyes piercing the darkness, with a smile on her face despite the tear stains down her cheeks.

"Julie," Carol said softly, untangling herself from Daryl and reaching out for the little girl. "It's late. Why aren't you sleeping?"

The smile faded from Julie's round face. "I had a bad dream."

Carol turned to Daryl with a hopeful smile on her face and he couldn't bring himself to send the toddler back to where Lori and Carl slept. He sighed and gave her a small nod.

She held out her arms to the little girl. "C'mere, sweetie."

Julie shuffled into her arms and they tried to find a comfortable position in the dirt, Daryl holding Carol's back to his chest and Carol hugging Julie tightly to her.

It struck him how odd they all must look together; he and Carol, covered in scars, dirt, grime, and blood, so close to a little girl who looked like an angel, despite her matted hair and dirty clothes. Then again, she was the same little girl who watched her father turn into a monster, a barn burn to the ground, and her mother shot in the head. She was going to grow up in a nightmare with scars of her own. Maybe it didn't matter how they looked. Maybe they all just fit.

They were quite a family, weren't they?

He was starting to drift off when he heard it, a quiet melody drifting into the darkness. Carol was singing a pretty song he'd never heard before, singing Julie to sleep now that her real mother couldn't.

"_Oh what I would give,  
>if only you could know."<em>

He pressed a small kiss to the top of her head as she continued to sing. If things had turned out differently, if the world hadn't been taken over by walkers, Daryl doubted he ever would have found his arms wrapped around a woman like Carol Peletier. Hell, he was surprised he had managed even _with_ the world falling apart around them. But he did, and it was like a whole new purpose was driven into him to keep this woman safe and happy through whatever came their way.

Julie had finally drifted off and he could hear her soft breathing. It wasn't fair that she had lost both of her parents in the span of a week. It wasn't fair that _any_ of them had lost people they cared about, but there was nothing they could do to bring them back. All he could hope to do was keep his promise to Cheryl. His father wasn't exactly someone to draw inspiration from, but between Carol and him, he was sure they could at least keep her safe from harm.

He had no idea what was going to happen in the morning, where they were going to go, or what they were going to do. The future had never quite been clear to Daryl, even before the outbreak, but it had never seemed so muddled to him as it was at the moment. But he felt Carol in his arms, heard her soft voice, and he knew that his future, whatever it was, had her in it. She had gotten under his skin and he wasn't going to let her go.

And that was enough for now.


End file.
